The Vanished Hour
by Maiden of the Forests
Summary: After an accident with the TARDIS, Rey and the Doctor find themselves separated, Rey in a strange town of mist and ruins and the Doctor in a small 1940s town-or is it the 1940s? Rey teams up with a stranger who claims to be the Doctor to find her way back, but what separated them? And why has time seemed to twist up on itself around a mysterious road called Falling Star Lane?
1. Part 1 Prologue

_**Author's Note:**_ _Gah, I'm so sorry I disappeared off the face of the Earth, lol. Life happened and somehow this series got pushed to the back burner. Anyway, this is a bit of a longer story and I have one more finished and one in progress, so I should be posting for a while now!_

* * *

 **Prologue**

"So." The Doctor leaned up against the edge of the console, his hands shoved in his pockets, grinning a little half-grin. "Where to?"

"You're asking me?" Rey looked up from where she leaned up against a pillar, carefully putting the finishing touches on her new staff. The _second_ new staff she had made since she had started traveling with him. "I know nothing about this universe! I only just found out that Atlantis existed before the Revolution, a fact which I'm quite certain everyone else in the universe knows. I don't think this is a decision you want me to make."

He laughed. "You know, I like this whole _traveling with someone from another universe_ thing. You see time like I do—a whole mishmash of stuff instead of a linear progression. Ooh, I know _just_ the place." He whirled back to the console and smacking a lever. "I think a little trip to another planet is in order this time. Something fun. Something—"

She looked up, adding one last screw and weighing the staff in her hands. "Past or future?"

"It's all the same when you think about it, really. What's past for the future could be future for the past, or something like that. Think I got that wrong. Where did you _get_ that, anyway?"

"Oh, this?" She held up the staff. "I made it. Again."

He raised an eyebrow. "And where—"

"This place is a goldmine of old parts. Almost better than Jakku!" She stood, testing the staff. The weight distribution was slightly different but she would get used to it if she practiced a bit. She twirled it as the familiar warp sound filled the console, and the light began to pulse up and down the center. Keeping her feet steady beneath her as the ship shifted a bit, she jabbed it forward—

The floor fell out from under her and she tumbled forward, the staff clattering across the floor. She was on her feet in an instant, her hand closing around the nearest banister.

"What was _that_?"

"Turbulence! Or some kind of—" The Doctor dashed to the console, grabbed the viewscreen and jerked it backward. "Nothing! There's nothing—"

Carefully, she let go of the bannister and started towards him. She had peered over his shoulder enough times to know that viewscreen like she knew the feel of her staff in her hands. And once, she had seen something he didn't—

The floor careened backwards and she skidded forward and slammed into the console with an impact that forced the breath out of her with an _oof._ She clutched the edges of the console and looked up at the Doctor.

"Well? _Do_ something!"

"I'm trying!" Shoving her out of the way, he leaned over the console and reached for a lever. She let out a little cry of annoyance and skidded out of his way, her fingers sliding over levers, buttons, and all manner of strange devices as the ship tilted to the side—and then whipped back, sending them both sprawling on top of each other and rolling towards the door.

"She's resisting something!" He untangled himself from her and leapt to his feet, rushing back to the console. "Something's attacking! Rey—other side! See that lever?"

She was on her feet in an instant. Finally he was letting her actually _do_ something. "This one?"

"No, _that_ one. _"_

"This?"

"Yes! That! Push it forward—don't slam it, just a little gentle—yes, like that. Now—"

The doors burst open.

Rey rushed for her staff as the floor swayed and tilted beneath her, snatching it from the floor and whirling to face the door. A wind rushed past her and howled about the console, curling up the center column and—and _laughing_?

She turned this way and that, her staff at the ready.

Was it alive?

She edged backwards, keeping a careful eye on the open doors. If they were in open space, they had better hope the airlock hadn't broken. "Doctor—"

"No—no no no!" The Doctor rushed forward, desperately grabbing at levers and slamming buttons along the console. "No—it's taken control! It's—"

And then he was gone, and the TARDIS was gone, and she was floating in blackness.


	2. Part 1 Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**_ _I'm having some fun writing the practical side of Rey. She may be a dreamy idealist with a sense of childlike wonder, but she also knows how to handle herself, and I finally get to make good use of that. :D_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

She was floating.

Floating through darkness, floating through nothingness. And yet, somehow, she was falling, stars and galaxies and years flying past her like swirling snowflakes. She fell, and tumbled, and fell, and then—

Nothing.

She opened her eyes and sat up with a gasp. Fog hung about her in wisps and trails. She realized after a moment that she was sitting on some kind of grass, her hands planted firmly in the dirt. Her staff lay beside her as if it had been dropped, clattering from some height.

She stood, slowly, testing her balance before putting her weight on her feet. Where was the Doctor? The TARDIS? The last thing she remembered—

What—what was the last thing she remembered? She had been talking about timelines or something like that, and then—the doors had flown open? She couldn't have been pulled out into the vacuum of space. She would be dead if she had.

She picked up her staff and slipped it into its holster at her back, taking a tentative step forward and looking around. Fog and mist surrounded her like a heavy blanket, and in the distance she thought she could see the grey outlines of what appeared to be buildings of some kind.

"Doctor?"

Her voice echoed a bit before fading away, swallowed in the fog.

Well—the ground beneath her was solid enough, and she wasn't having trouble breathing the air, so evidently she had landed on some kind of habitable planet.

Alright—so it was habitable. Was it actually inhabited? Judging by the dim outlines of the buildings in the distance, she guessed it was. Or had been, at one time.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Her hand went to her staff, ready to draw in an instant. This fog was a perfect place for any number of dangerous creatures to hide.

The only reply was the echo of her own voice.

Alright. So she was going with _once inhabited but currently abandoned,_ then. If she could just find some sort of ship, maybe she could get off—and find the Doctor.

 _The Doctor…._

She tightened her fingers around the cool metal of her staff and swallowed back a sudden wave of—something. Not fear. Definitely not fear. She knew how to handle ruins and strange planets. Well—not strange planets—not from experience. But _theoretically,_ she knew what to do.

Definitely not fear.

She was _fine._

 _Was the Doctor fine?_

If he had been sucked into the vacuum of space—

She pushed back her worry. He was the Doctor. He was always fine.

And he would find her. Somehow. Because she trusted him.

Trusted that he would come back for her.

She sighed and started forward, her feet crunching lightly in the dead grass. No one had set foot here for years—she could tell that much. She had grown up among ruins. She knew a ruin when she saw one. Well—at last she wouldn't have to deal with unfriendly natives.

Hopefully.

The shadowy buildings loomed closer, and she slowed her steps as she approached, giving the area a quick scan. The mist settled about her in swirling clouds, and she shivered.

Wonderful. She had landed on a cold planet.

Her footsteps seemed loud in the fog, the only noise for miles but for the gentle murmuring of a breeze somewhere far-off. She looked down to see that she was walking on a pathway made of some kind of stone, cracked and blackened with age, or—something else. She dropped to her knees. Burns? Or—there seemed to be something odd about those cracks—

A wave of dizziness swept over her, and the world seemed to spin around her like a galaxy in fast motion. She stumbled to her feet and took a few staggering steps backward and then found herself sitting on the grass again, her breath coming in short gasps. For a moment it seemed as if the world had shifted, and the daylight that managed to make its way through the fog had blinked on and off several times.

Almost as if—

Almost—

She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her temples. She had been going somewhere with that thought. For a moment there had been something very specific she had been thinking. What—

Well, never mind now. She stood, stepping carefully around the strange cracks. Just looking at them made her dizzy—as if something swirled in their depths. So she stared at the building ahead of her instead. The fog parted for a moment, and she saw a doorframe—cracked, half-collapsed, the ghost of a once-loved home.

The silhouettes of other buildings surrounded her like specters. She couldn't go searching every one of them for traces of the Doctor. She needed to find some way she could communicate with—well, anyone. Surely whatever this planet was, it had some people on it somewhere….

She looked around. Well, the only thing she could do is head in a direction and hope she met someone.

Or better yet, see if she could find some kind of map.

She started towards the cracked porch of the house.

Something skittered behind her.

She froze.

It sounded like some kind of creature running over dry grass.


	3. Part 1 Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:**_ _Meet Laila Wood. I hope you like her, because she decided to take over half of this story, lol. (And I promise her existence here has a point. ;) )_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Laila Wood walked past this neighborhood every day.

Or—well—didn't walk past it.

It was just a silly kid's superstition, really. Across the street she could see the sign that used to read _Forest Lane—_ but years ago, someone had painted over it to read _Falling Star Lane._ No one had ever changed it.

No one had ever dared.

For a moment, she hesitated, looking a little wistfully past the sign and down the dusky road it marked. Rob had dared her to walk down Falling Star Lane once—and she had refused, saying sharply that she didn't accept dares from reckless _boys._ She had been a prim little thing, but for some reason he had still liked her.

She smiled, fingering the diamond ring on her finger.

She turned away, staring at the sidewalk in front of her. Just a week ago, he had left for the war. Kissed her goodbye. Promised to write. It had been strange walking past this place since then—the whole area was steeped in memories of him.

She kept walking, taking the longer route as usual. No one walked through Falling Star Lane, even if it was quicker—no one had walked through Falling Star Lane in years.

The neighborhood kids all said that a star had fallen there years ago—a star that would swallow you whole if you got near it. There were rumors of people disappearing, never to be found again.

No one dared.

Unless they were dared.

She had never accepted that dare of Rob's. She slowed a little, staring for a long moment at the fallen-down houses that led away from the sign. Of course there couldn't _really_ be a star there—that was impossible.

But as Rob would have said, it was the impossible things that were the most fun to tell stories about.

She was never quite sure what made her do it. Perhaps her thoughts of Rob, perhaps it was the fact that it was getting late and mama would be worried about her—and, well, there _was_ a quicker way to get home. Right beside her. Somehow, she found herself turning, crossing the street, walking toward the sign.

She was walking down Falling Star Lane.

It was really quite silly of her, being so scared of the place. It was just an old neighborhood—a bit run-down, certainly, but that was probably just because of all the rumors surrounding it. No one wanted to live there. Rob would be so proud of her when she told him she had finally accepted that dare of his. And when he came back, they would walk down Falling Star Lane together.

And come up with some wonderful stories along the way.

She was already writing the letter in her head as she made her way down the twilit road. _Dearest—I walked down Falling Star Lane today._ Oh, how he would grin! _And it was perfectly normal—how terribly anticlimactic._ She took a moment to look around her, taking in every detail of the place so she could describe it to him. The houses lay in various stages of disarray, shadows clinging to them like shrouds. She wondered if anyone actually lived here.

Had anyone ever lived here? Or were the houses some sort of cover, an attempt to make it look normal?

She shivered.

Shaking herself, she managed a little grin. How terribly silly she was being—but heaven knows, she was known for being a little silly. For a moment she just stood there, drawing in a deep breath of the cool night air. She closed her eyes for a moment—

And then the world took off in a dizzy spin.

Her eyes popped open and she tried to draw a breath, but couldn't. It felt as if the ground had fallen out from under her and she was tumbling through nothing—and yet, somehow, she could still see the neighborhood around her, flickering and flashing like a broken lightbulb. It was strange, it made her dizzy, and somehow she felt as if, if she looked too long, she would go mad.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to find something to hold onto.

And then everything was still.

For a moment she just sat there, the realization that she had fallen to the pavement slowly dawning on her. The sun was warm on her face, and—

Wait.

She rubbed her eyes and looked around. She still sat in the middle of the run-down neighborhood, the houses bright in the afternoon— _sunlight_?

For a moment she just sat there, her heart pounding in her ears. Had she passed out? Had she lain here all night? She stood slowly, shakily, half-expecting a wave of dizziness. No—she was fine, she could stand well enough. Smoothing her skirt, she looked around.

Okay.

So she had passed out, somehow. And lay there all night. And no one had found her. That was—odd. But it was the only explanation she could come up with.

Well—the only explanation that made any logical sense.

She took a few hesitant steps forward. She needed to get out of this place. Mama would be worried sick about her. She walked faster, keeping her eye on the _Falling Star Lane_ sign in front of her, with its ragged letters, scrawled in white paint. She stepped onto the corner and skidded to a stop, blinking.

The town was—

No, the town was normal.

For a moment, she thought she had gotten a glimpse of something—off. Or something. But no, everything was normal. The houses were all there. And why wouldn't they be?

She took a deep breath and started towards home. If she had really been gone all night, she was in for a scolding. And she would have to tell mama that she had walked down Falling Star Lane for no reason other than that she _could._

She sighed. It had really been terribly stupid of her. Even _adults_ knew there was something strange about that place.

She passed Mrs. Plunket's place and raised her hand to wave to the old woman who was always sitting on the porch with a ready greeting, but a strange figure on the lawn made her skid to a stop, wide-eyed. A man lay stretched out in the grass, looking as if he had fallen there, his eyes closed and his face pale. He wore a dark brown pinstripe suit and his hair stood out in all directions. Catching her breath, she rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside him.

"Sir—sir, are you alright?" She shook him gently by the shoulders. "Sir—"

He sat up with a gasp, nearly knocking her backwards. "Where am I?" he blurted, and she noticed that he spoke with a British accent. "What year is it?"


	4. Part 1 Chapter 3

_**Author's Note:**_ _I had some fun with this chapter hehe. After the Revolution and Atlantis, Rey's finally found something she knows how to handle—old ruins. :P_

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Rey glanced behind her, drawing her staff swiftly and silently from its holster. She peered through the fog, trying to see anything, any kind of silhouette—but there was nothing. Nothing but the odd skittering sound—she stood perfectly still for a moment, not daring to draw a breath. Perhaps whatever it was couldn't see her either, and would pass by her in the fog.

The noise stopped, and a heavy silence surrounded her.

She took a cautious step towards the cracked porch of the house in front of her. Still no movement. No sound. Both hands clasped firmly around the staff, she took another careful step, keeping her eyes fixed on the place where she had last heard the sound.

She stepped onto the porch. It creaked beneath her and she froze.

The skittering began again, and it seemed to be coming closer.

The cracks in the sidewalk wobbled.

And then she was running, her feet pounding across the creaking porch. She seized the doorknob and yanked the door open, nearly pulling it off its hinges as she flew inside. She pulled it closed behind her and leaned against it for a moment, breathing hard.

She could only hope whatever was following her couldn't open doors…

It was a silly hope, really. She should probably get as far away from the door as possible. And find someplace to hide, someplace where she could observe and not be seen.

She took a deep breath and stepped away from the door, looking around, taking in her surroundings. She seemed to be standing in some kind of entryway which led into a few different rooms. It was carpeted, but the carpet was worn away in places, giving it an eerie decayed appearance. A doorframe stood half-collapsed in front of her, and she could see glimpses of another room through it.

She took a few tentative steps forward, testing the floor beneath her. Ruins like these were prone to collapse in strange places, and she didn't know a thing about the buildings in this place. For all she knew, they could be rigged with trapdoors or other strange contraptions.

Well, so far it seemed fine.

The door thumped behind her.

She darted to the doorway and ducked behind the broken door, peering out into the entryway through the cracks in the wood.

Nothing.

Not yet, anyway.

She turned away from the door and took stock of the room. Pieces of decaying furniture surrounded her, their covers moth-eaten and rotting away in places, filling spilling out, giving them a strange, almost grisly appearance. The dust was so thick beneath her feet that she left footprints as she walked.

"Hello?" Her voice was almost a whisper, and yet it echoed, strangely muffled by the dust. "Anyone here?"

The echoes faded away into silence and she let out a sigh. Good. She was alone here.

She'd like to keep it that way.

Keeping her staff at her side, she scanned the room again. Except for the rather awkward endeavor of climbing under one of the decaying pieces of furniture, there were no good hiding places. The only way out was the half-broken door through which she had entered. From there, she could either go back to the entryway or follow a hallway which led to another door. She took a deep breath and started forward, treading softly lest the floor let out another loud creak.

Her foot hit something and sent it skittering across the floor, sending dust flying in all directions. She froze, listening for a long moment, and then leaned down carefully to see what age-old item she had disturbed.

It was a screwdriver.

Not a sonic screwdriver. Just—a screwdriver.

With a shrug, she picked it up and slipped it into her pocket. Well, it might come in handy later. Easing the door open, she stepped into the hallway, one eye on the front door. Something poked its way through the rotting wood—a _drill._

She ducked into the hallway, her ears trained on the door and on every step she took. She came to a stop in front of the door at the end and eased it open—and stood looking up a small, broken ladder that led up into some sort of loft.

Perfect.

She was up it in a moment, skipping broken rungs and testing each step carefully before she put her weight on it. She ducked into the attic and edged behind the doorframe, peering down into the little room at the base of the ladder.

She could still hear the door clattering.

Well, she could hide here. At least for a bit. Long enough to get a glimpse at what she was going to have to face.

She eased the attic door closed, though it didn't do much good, as the latch wouldn't catch and it tended to drift back open. Keeping her staff in one hand, she took a moment to look around. It seemed to have been a bedroom of some sort, though there were a surprising amount of beds for the small space. Perhaps some sort of makeshift hospital ward, once? The entire room was draped in an odd half-light, and a ray of sunlight lanced through the single, tiny window, catching the dust disturbed by her footsteps and making it glow like fairy-lights.

Every tiny noise she made echoed a bit in the small room.

She poked the nearest bed with the tip of her staff, and a bit of stuffing poofed out, rotting and moth-eaten. She made a face and stuffed it back in—

A sound at the door made her whirl, her staff at the ready. The door to the lower room creaked open, and—

She nearly sent her staff clattering to the floor below.

"BB8?"

The little droid looked up at her, letting out a sad beep and then looking at the ladder.

"BB8—was that—you?" She felt herself smiling, just a little. "Oh, please tell me I didn't spend the last ten minutes running away from a droid."

The little droid moved its head up and down, letting out another sad beep.

She sighed, gathering up her staff again. "Alright—I'm coming down. You're the only one here, right? Nothing's following you?"

It swiveled its head around the room and then returned its single-eye gaze to her, shaking its head with a little confused beep.

She laughed. "Alright—so I just spent the last ten minutes running from a droid." Making her way carefully down the ladder, she gave the droid a pat on the head. "BB8—I'm glad you're here. Come on, let's get out of this place, it's going to fall to bits any minute."

The little droid followed her out of the room, down the hallway, and back into the entryway, skittering across the floor behind her. She should have known, really—she had heard BB8 following her around enough times to recognize the sound of his rolling along nearly any surface.

She was just—jumpy.

That was all.

She pushed the front door open and stepped out on the porch, blinking in the—sunlight? She stopped, staring wide-eyed at the sight in front of her.

The fog had cleared, and the early-evening sunlight sparkled off of the grass, the path, the ruins of a few other homes, all wet with droplets that had been mist. The entire town seemed to be covered in a thousand fairy-lights, like little stars among the ruins. Shards of broken glass that clung to windows sparkled orange, and the walls of the buildings glowed in the sunset.

She blinked.

The entire place seemed wobbly.

Just looking at it made her feel dizzy, like something was wrong with her head. She blinked again, and rubbed her eyes, but it didn't clear. The houses seemed to wobble, somehow, as if she were seeing them through some sort of veil. She had the sudden and strangely distinct feeling that she was looking into the past.

And then it was gone, and the ruin was just a ruin again.

She stepped carefully off of the porch and started down the path again, back towards where she had come from. She just wanted out of this place, this place that seemed to be caught in some kind of strange bubble.

"Come on, BB8," she muttered, her steps speeding up as she followed the path. "We've got to get out of here. Have you…." Her voice trailed off and she turned back to the droid, suddenly pensive. "Have you seen the Doctor? Or were you dropped here by yourself too?"

The little droid shook its head sadly, coming to a stop and staring at the path. Its antennae drooped a bit.

She sighed. "Alright," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "So we—we just have to look, then. If you're here, and I'm here, then surely….." Her voice trailed off. She wasn't worried. She _wasn't._ He was the Doctor. He would be okay. "Well, come on." Clutching her staff in her hands, she started forward, the little droid following a little sadly.

It had been a small town of sorts, that much was clear. Something had caused the inhabitants to abandon it rather suddenly—the houses sat in various stages of disarray, and the evening sun illuminated a hastily dropped tool here and some kind of old vehicle there. She passed by another house, its roof torn off and its doorframe missing—but when she looked closer, it didn't seem as if it was torn off. Simply—disappeared.

She shivered and walked faster.

And then the world was spinning again, tumbling around her and sending her stumbling backwards, clutching for her staff and throwing her arms around BB8, suddenly and inexplicably afraid of losing the little droid.

The closest thing she had to familiarity here.

And then she was sitting on the path, one arm around the droid, the spinning in her head receding. She got carefully to her feet and looked around.

The fog seemed to have drifted back again, and it seemed darker, somehow—as if the sunset had passed its golden hour and the sun had finally dipped below the horizon. But no—that couldn't be. It must be the fog—

Staring hard at the path at her feet, she started forward again. It had to lead somewhere. It had to lead _out._

A dim outline loomed up in the fog before her and she came to a stop in front of it, her hands finding metal bars. She looked up to see a fence jutting up into the darkened sky, old and rusted. It stretched away as far as she could see in either direction until it faded into the mist.

She just leaned against the bars for a moment, closing her eyes.

She was fenced in.

"Doctor?"

The soft word echoed for a moment before fading away, and everything fell silent again—a soft, pillow-like silence couched in fog.

She sighed.

He could be anywhere in this strange little town—or outside of it. Outside of this fence that loomed up before her like a sentinel in the night. Or maybe—

A smear of fog drifted away and she stiffened, staring wide-eyed. "BB8." Her voice was soft, urgent. "BB8—look. Look—"

And then she was running. Running along the fence towards the box-shaped silhouette that, a moment before, had been hidden by the mist and the darkness. She skidded to a stop in front of the large blue box, setting her hand on the side.

Oh thank goodness. Thank goodness.

She had found him.

Pulling the key from her pocket, she circled around to the front and opened the door, letting herself inside. The familiar lighting filled the console room, and she let out a little sigh.

It felt like—home.

She let BB8 follow her inside and closed the door behind her, circling the console. Everything seemed to be waiting—lights blinked on and off, the viewscreen looked as if it had gone into some sort of sleep mode, and one lever was half-pushed-forward.

So the Doctor hadn't been gone long, then. Maybe that meant—maybe that meant he'd be back soon.

"Can you tell me where the Doctor went?" Her words seemed small in the echoing interior, and soon they faded away into silence. "I'm talking to a ship," she muttered, leaning against the console with a sigh and crossing her arms.

A sound in the doorway made her whirl, her hand flying to her staff. The door opened, and a stranger stepped inside.

He wore a black leather jacket and his hair was close-cropped. His gaze was hard as he stared at her.

"Who are you?" she cried, moving her staff to attack position. "And how did you get in the TARDIS?"

He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. "I'm the Doctor," he said. "And I could ask the same of you."


	5. Part 1 Chapter 4

_**Author's Note:**_ _Head's up, I may not be posting again until sometime next week. I'm going to_ _try_ _to post the next chapter on Friday but we're traveling for Thanksgiving so it might not happen. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving everyone!_

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

For a moment Laila just stared at the man. "Sir, are you—are you quite sure you're alright?" she said finally.

He blinked, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Alright? Now that—" He raised an eyebrow. "That is a bit of a subjective question, wouldn't you say? I know quite a few people who would say I _wasn't_ alright. Oh, did you say what year it was?"

She shook her head. "It's—it's 1943, sir," she said, a little faintly. She wasn't even sure she should be answering his question. What other year _could_ it be? Had he come straight from the madhouse?

"Oh—wonderful!" He jumped to his feet, nearly pulling her with him. "So I've landed in the middle of the war this time! And where—England, I'm assuming? It's usually England."

She shook her head. "Uh—this is America, sir," she said, backing away just a bit. The man was quite obviously a bit mad. Well—more than a _bit._ "Sir, I should—I should really be getting back." She took another step backwards. "Mama's going to kill me…."

"Alright—fair enough." He turned. "I'll just—say have you seen a blue police box sitting around here anywhere? I seem to have lost it…."

She blinked. "Sir—"

"I know, I know, I don't seem much like police, do I? Well, I'm not. I'm the Doctor." He held out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

She managed a little giggle. "Laila Wood," she said, returning the handshake gingerly.

"Laila Wood." It sounded as if he were trying out the name. "Laila Wood—I like it. Has a nice ring to it. Well—where did you say this was, anyway?"

"Uh, Linborough, sir. The town of Linborough—how do you lose a police box?" She couldn't help it—she was curious. "It seems like it'd be….a little….hard to lose…." Her voice trailed off. She was talking to a perfect stranger who didn't even know what _year_ it was.

And yet, oddly enough, she rather liked him.

"Oh, bit of a long story. I think you'll understand when you see it—the police box, I mean. At least, you'll understand a bit more. Uh—well, it's actually rather hard to understand. What do you say to showing me about the town a bit?" he blurted.

She shook her head quickly. She was no fool. She wasn't going to go walking about the town with a perfect stranger. "I've really got to be getting home—"

A noise behind her caught her attention and she turned to see a car driving past. She sighed. Had she just been startled by a car? Well—she was—jumpy. This was all so— _odd._ She stared absently at the car as it drove off down the street—and blinked.

That car. It wasn't right.

She took a step forward, standing on her tiptoes and trying to catch a glimpse of it as it rounded the corner. There was something _off_ about it. Something—something _wrong._ But she didn't quite know what—

"Laila?" The Doctor's voice behind her made her start, and she turned and nodded towards the car.

"That car was—what was wrong with it?"

"Doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it to me. But you know, I'm not one to ask about normal." He gave her a half-grin. "You've probably figured that out by now."

"Yeah, I—I have," she said weakly. "I, uh—oh, hi, Mr. Cartwright!" She turned and waved to the old man who sat rocking on his porch, giving him the usual bright smile. "Morning….." Her voice trailed off and she felt a flush rising to her cheeks.

That wasn't Mr. Cartwright.

Someone else sat on Mr. Cartwright's porch, drinking a cup of tea and leaning back in the rocking chair like he owned the place.

She turned away, flushing furiously. He was probably staring at her.

"Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly, as if he could hear her. One odd little occurrence, and she was suddenly a clumsy idiot who didn't know how to speak to strangers. The town was the town, and everything was _fine._

But everything wasn't fine. And she couldn't shake the feeling that the whole town was wrong, somehow. The feeling that there was something off about it. Something—

"Laila?"

It was a strange voice that spoke this time, and from far away, echoing down the street. She turned back, staring past the Doctor and at the road sign just behind her. The sign that read _Falling Star Lane…._

A woman stood just behind the sign.

"Laila?" she called again, and Laila took a hesitant step forward. She didn't know the woman. How did she know her name?

"Hello?" she said, taking a few more cautious steps toward the strange woman. "Hello…."

"Laila? Rey?" The woman seemed to stare through her, through the town, through the morning sunlight. In fact, it didn't seem as if she were seeing anything at all. Her eyes were wide, and—and _frightened._

Just looking at her unsettled Laila, somehow. It was as if—she blinked, rubbing her eyes and looking again. No. _No._ That wasn't _possible._

She was flickering.

Laila took a stumbling step backwards. "Doctor?" she said, and her voice was strangled. "Doctor, there's something—"

The Doctor was at her side in an instant, whipping a pair of glasses out of his suit pocket and slipping them on. He looked the woman up and down.

"Hmm," he muttered. "Now that _is_ strange." He reached into his pocket again, and pulled some sort of strange device out of it and flicking a button on its side.

Laila wasn't sure what to stare at. So she just stood there, her eyes wide, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, her astonished gazed alternating between the device in the Doctor's hand and the strange, flickering, frightened woman.

"Is she a ghost?" she said in a small voice. "I….I don't believe in ghosts…." Her voice trailed off and she took another step backwards.

"I've found that people often don't believe in a lot of things they should believe in." The Doctor scanned the device in front of the woman like some kind of—something. Laila wasn't even sure what to compare it to. It looked like a rather large pen, but the tip lit up with a strange, electric blue, and a thoroughly unfamiliar wobbling sound emanated from it. He shook his head and shoved it back into his pocket. "Nothing," he muttered, before stepping forward and holding out a hand.

For a moment, the woman's frightened gaze focused on him. She began to reach forward—

Her mouth opened as if to cry out, but no sound came. She stumbled backwards, looking around wildly like a frightened deer.

And then she was gone, flickering out and leaving the street empty.

Laila stood frozen for a long moment, staring at the space where she had been. "I want to go home," she said in a small voice. "I just want to go home—"

And then she was running, her feet pounding along the sidewalk, following the route she had taken so many times before. Running, running away from the Doctor and the strange flickering woman and Falling Star Lane.

Running towards something normal.


	6. Part 1 Chapter 5

_**Author's Note:**_ _Whoo, I'm actually able to post today! I'm sitting in an airport with a long wait so I figured I might as well make good use of the time lol. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving!_

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Rey was on him in a moment, her staff inches from his face. "You're not the Doctor," she said, her voice low. "And you can't fool me, because I've met him. And you don't look a thing like him."

He stared her down, somehow managing to loosen her grip on her staff by his gaze alone. "I _am_ the Doctor," he said, "and I'll thank you to believe it. Now if you could just—" He made a lowering motion with his hand. "Not a big fan of having weapons pointed directly at my face."

She lowered her staff slightly, but kept herself in the doorway, ready to attack if he tried to pass. "You want something with the TARDIS," she said, meeting his gaze steadily. "What is it?"

"I want to go inside, because it's my TARDIS." He raised an eyebrow. "And I don't seem to remember inviting _you_ in."

She edged away, just slightly, still keeping her gaze fixed firmly on him and her staff at the ready. "If you really are the Doctor—which is completely impossible—you actually did. Now." She circled a little more, as if to let him pass. "You seem to know quite a bit about this ship, considering you got inside. You help me find the Doctor, and I'll let you in."

"And that's another thing." He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe and facing her with disconcerting calm. "How did _you_ get inside? The TARDIS doesn't just let people in."

"Stop with the questions!" She approached him, her staff pointed at his face once again. "Or I _will_ use this! This ship is the _Doctor's_!"

He shrugged. "You do a lot of threatening for someone who seems to have a fondness for keeping that staff two inches away from my face and not _doing_ anything with it. And for the record, _the Doctor_ stole it from the Time Lords. And that's me. So if you just let me past, I can prove to you I can fly this thing."

She lowered her staff again, just a little. "Alright. If you can fly this, you can help me find the Doctor. But if you harm a single piece of it—"

"This coming from you?" He raised an eyebrow and nodded towards her staff. "You obviously took pieces off of the ship for that thing."

"For the record, _I_ found them lying around," she retorted.

Wait—how had he known? It wasn't _that_ obvious—

In a moment, he had pushed past her and was standing at the console. "She's restless—uncomfortable," he muttered, stroking the side of the console as if to subdue an anxious animal. "She's never uncomfortable." He turned back to Rey. "Alright, so you're from the future, that's clear enough. And obviously I've regenerated between now and….you. You need to leave. You're already messing with the timelines enough, just being here. That's not supposed to happen."

She faced him, moving her staff back to attack position. "And just leave you with the TARDIS?" she snapped.

"That's the expectation, yes."

"Then no." She met his calm, hard gaze with an equally calm, hard gaze of her own. "I'm not leaving until you prove to me that you can be trusted with this ship. If you'll help me find the Doctor—"

"I am the Doctor." And turned back to the console. "And no. So leave."

She sighed. "Alright. So we're stuck. I'm not leaving and you're not doing anything until I leave. So what now?"

"I can see why my future self likes you," he muttered, flicking a lever. "Always was one for the persistent ones."

"You act like you're speaking from experience." She narrowed her eyes. "Like you _remember._ Look, whoever you are, you're good. But can't expect me to fall for this. It's not as if you can just change your face—"

"Actually, I can. Regeneration. Time Lords' way of cheating death." He stared up at the center column, and his words were absent, as if he hardly realized he was speaking. "Something's wrong…."

And then he turned and was shoving past her, darting out into the foggy night. He whipped something from his pocket and she heard a familiar wobble—

She was on him in a moment, her staff pointed at his face. "What did you do to him?" she hissed. "No one gets a hold of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. _No one._ "

He didn't answer. Instead, he held out the sonic screwdriver for a moment, pointing it at the tip of her staff. The tip of her staff clattered to the ground, along with the screws that held it in place.

She spluttered. "Did you just—"

"Sonic _screwdriver,_ " he said. "Does everything. Including unscrew things."

She blinked, looking between her half-disassembled staff and the stranger who stood before her. "Alright. You can't be the Doctor. But if you can just help me find him, maybe I'll trust you." She jabbed her tipless staff forward. " _Maybe._ "

"Time energy." She turned at his voice to see that he was no longer looking at her, but was staring out through the darkness. "This whole town's soaked in it."

She blinked. "What?"

"Time energy. Pockets of it everywhere. That's why she's uncomfortable." He shot a glance back at the TARDIS. "Close those doors, will you? We're going to find the source."

She shook her head. "Look, I know ships. And I know that pilots know their ships like the backs of their hands. But I have never, ever seen a ship to be _uncomfortable._ It's a ship, it's not a—"

"I meant what I said. She's uncomfortable." He started forward, the sonic screwdriver pointed in front of him. "She's trying to get as far away as she possibly can. Which means it's this way."

She huffed, leaning down to pick up the end of her staff and shoving it in her pocket. "So we're going towards it," she said.

He turned towards her, and a grin broke across his face. "Yep!"

She sighed. "Maybe you are the Doctor," she muttered, before starting after him.


	7. Part 1 Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Laila skidded to a stop in front of her door. Heavens, Mama was going to kill her. She tucked a curl behind her ear and licked her lips. How on earth was she going to explain what happened? _I decided to walk down Falling Star Lane because apparently I'm horribly stupid and reckless and something happened and I passed out and then when I woke up I met a strange man who had probably escaped from some sort of madhouse and then—_ argh. She couldn't even explain it to herself. She might as well say she'd been kidnapped or something.

She raised her hand and knocked, balancing from one foot to another as she waited for a response. She heard a footstep on the sidewalk behind her. She started and whirled to see the Doctor sauntering down the sidewalk.

She fixed him with the best glare she could manage. "Alright, Mama's going to kill me enough for being gone all night," she said. "And she'll kill me even more if I bring some random stranger home!"

He shrugged. "Alright. I'll just—"

"No, you will _not_ wait here!" she snapped. "You will go away and find someone else to pester!"

"Pester?" He raised an eyebrow. "Now that's not a word I've had pointed in my direction very often." He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Alright then, I'll just go—pester someone else then." He turned, took a few steps, then turned back. "Oh—if you happen to see a blue police box lying around, please do tell me!"

"And how am I supposed to—" But he was gone, turning the corner and disappearing out of earshot. She huffed and knocked again.

No answer.

She stepped to the window and cupped her hands around her face, peering inside. The shades were closed—of _course._ So Mama was out, then. Alright—she'd let herself in. She stepped back to the door and lifted the mat.

The key wasn't there.

She let out a little frustrated exclamation. Today was not working. At all. Maybe this was why people didn't dare approach Falling Star Lane.

Well—she might as well try the door. It was silly—Mama never left the door unlocked. But it wasn't as if she was going to break a window or something, and she was _certainly_ not going to stand here on the street like an idiot waiting for her mother to return and let her in. So she grabbed the doorknob, and turned.

It opened.

She blinked. Okay then. That was—odd. But lucky. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

Empty houses had a certain feel about them. And Laila knew the minute she stepped inside that no one was here. The silence was heavy and filled with the kind of half-light that could only be created by closed shades in the afternoon.

She sighed.

Well—now she'd have time to cook up some kind of explanation, at least. She reached for the light switch—and froze.

It was different. Strange looking, somehow. She couldn't quite identify it, but—well, she got the same odd, unsettled and _off_ feeling when looking at it that she had when looking at the car that had passed earlier. As if she were walking through a dream where everything was slightly wrong.

She forced herself to take a breath, and flipped the switch. She turned to the living room—and she had to steady herself a bit on the entryway wall, suddenly feeling almost dizzy.

Mama was _not_ one to suddenly decide to redecorate. And even if she had had that sudden and uncharacteristic urge, she couldn't have done it so thoroughly overnight. The couch was new. She didn't recognize a single chair. The carpet was a darker brown. The walls were off-white instead of tan. And a strange-looking device sat against the far wall, some sort of screen or something. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to try to figure it out. She just wanted—

She just wanted things to be normal again. She wanted to come home to a scolding from Mama and maybe a letter from Rob. She wanted—

And then she was running, down the hallway and away from the strange dreamlike living room. Towards the only place she could find solace, the only place she could sit down and think. Towards her little room in the rafters. Her little attic room, where she went to be alone and to dream.

She hurried up the ladder and shoved the door open, bursting into the loft. And she let out a little shriek and nearly fell over backwards at the sight.

* * *

The Doctor sauntered through the town, taking in every detail. Laila had said it was 1943, but he was fairly certain she had been wrong. Oh, he was no stranger to anachronisms. But this was just not _right._ Now, he just had to figure out why she had thought she was in 1943—

The sound of running feet brought his head around and he turned to see Laila flying towards him, her curls disheveled and her eyes round with fear. She skidded to a stop just before smacking into him, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Everything's wrong." It almost sounded like a sob. "My house isn't my house and everything's different and it has strange things in it and the attic is full of bodies!"

His eyebrows shot up. "The attic is—what?"

"The attic is full of bodies!" And then she was leaning against him, sobbing into his suit coat. "And I don't know whether they're alive or not."


	8. Part 1 Chapter 7

_**Author's Note:** Gah I'm sorry today was crazy and I fried my brain with college so it took me forever to post. Also I wrote this thing 7 months ago and I'm having way too much fun reading through my own writing and cackling at Rey and Nine's dynamic, lol.  
_

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

"Why are you following me?" the man who called himself the Doctor snapped over his shoulder as they made their way through the dusky town, BB8 bumping along behind Rey.

"Because I'm lost in a strange world and you're the only other person I've met," she replied firmly. "And the only one who can _help_ me."

"I wouldn't count on it." He didn't look at her. "I can't cross my own timestream."

She huffed. "If anything bad was going to happen by you meeting me, I'd say it would have already happened. So you can at least help."

"Help you _what_?"

"Help me find the Doctor!"

"I am the Doctor!"

She sighed. "Look—maybe you're someone who also calls themselves the Doctor, has a ship that looks like a blue box, and carries a sonic screwdriver. But I don't believe in that kind of coincidence. Either you really are the Doctor—which is impossible—or you're impersonating him. And—" She glared at his back. "Look—stop walking away—listen! If you're trying to impersonate him, you've picked the wrong person, because I know him! And you don't look a thing like him."

"I think a lesson about regeneration is in order." Still he didn't turn back, didn't look at her. "Whatever future version of me you've met obviously hasn't told you all there is to know yet."

"Yeah, you mentioned that." She shrugged. "Some way of changing your face, you said? Convenient cover story."

"Fantastic," he muttered. "Always the persistent ones. Why do I always choose the persistent ones—" And then, before she knew what was happening, he lunged towards her. "Out of the way!" he cried, shoving her to the ground behind him.

She jumped to her feet and glared at him. "What was _that—_ "

"You almost walked through a pocket of time energy! You could have—"

For a moment she just stared at him. "Time energy? You mentioned—" She closed her eyes, pressing her fingers against her temples. _Sudden dizziness…..standing and looking around to see that the sky had darkened…._ "I think I already did," she blurted out. "Earlier. I…."

Suddenly he was staring at her. "Time energy's destructive! It could scatter you across ten different timestreams at once." He scanned the sonic screwdriver up and down across her. "You could have been killed."

She stared at the device. "Did you just scan me?"

He nodded. "Yep. You're not going to die. Come along then!"

"Well, that's comforting," she said dryly. "And I thought you didn't want me following you."

"I don't want you wandering around in a wasteland of time energy," he said sharply, turning away again. "You could get yourself killed. Or worse."

"That's a step in the right direction." She started after him. "So why are we going _away_ from the TARDIS, then?"

"Because there's a whole town of spilled time energy that's a very bad thing. And very bad things are kind of my specialty."

She shook her head. "I'm starting to think you really are the Doctor," she muttered. For a moment they just walked along in silence, a hundred vague thoughts and ideas shifting through her mind. "Wait." She didn't realize she'd said it out loud until he turned. "If I stepped through one of these time energy pockets, that means I could have missed—days? Years?"

"You could be a million years in the future and not know it," he replied. "That's the danger of it. Well, one of the many dangers."

"I could have lost him then." Her eyes went wide. "We could have been in the same time and now we could be separated by—by decades or—or centuries! He could be in trouble, he could be—you've got to help!" She grabbed him by the sleeve of his leather jacket and pulled him to a stop. "You've got to!"

"I think my future self can handle himself." He pulled his sleeve from her hand and started forward again. "More time energy," he muttered. "It's like it's spilling from some kind of well."

She huffed and started after him again. "I don't see why we're heading directly towards the epicenter of whatever disaster could have spilled _time itself_ across and entire _city,_ " she muttered to BB8. "But I'm going to assume he knows what he's doing."

BB8 beeped and looked up at her.

The Doctor—no, the man who called himself the Doctor—nodded. "That's good," he said. "Trust the droid. The droid knows what it's talking about."

She raised an eyebrow. "You speak droid?"

"I speak a lot of languages. I'm more surprised _you_ speak droid."

"Thank you for your very flattering opinion of me. The fact that I have a droid companion should say something to my language skills." She crossed her arms. "Now. I'm going to assume you've got some kind of plan?"

"I'm the Doctor. I never have a plan."

She sighed. Of course. Of _course_ he didn't have a plan. "Doctor—" She stopped, staring hard into the darkness. A shape hovered a little ways away, and it looked—it looked almost human. "Um." She stepped forward, keeping her gaze fixed steadily on the—thing—that hovered in the darkness. "Um. I think we've got company." She took another step forward, her hand closing around her staff. "Hello?" she said softly. "Hello—"

The shape hovered before her in the moonlight. It was human, or humanoid at least. But there was something off about it, something wrong. Something that unsettled her.

She took another step forward, holding out a hand as if to a skittish animal. It seemed to be a young-ish woman with thick blonde hair that shimmered in the moonlight. Her eyes were wide and frightened and unseeing.

"Laila?" Her voice seemed to echo, or—or, no, that wasn't it. It wasn't an echo. It sounded as if ten different versions of _her_ were speaking all at once. And then she turned, and held out a hand, her eyes seeming to focus on Rey for a moment. "Rey?" she said.

And Rey realized what was wrong, what it was about the woman that unsettled her.

She was transparent.

She blinked. No—surely not. Ghosts were only a myth—

She held out a hand, hesitant, almost afraid of what she would find. But her fingers touched the woman's, and the hand she held was real, as real as the metal of her staff.

And yet—and yet, she could see the outline of a house, flickering through her as if through a screen.

"Doctor?" For a moment the woman seemed to coalesce, and her eyes focused on something behind Rey. She turned to see the Doctor standing behind her, the sonic screwdriver held in front of him. "Doctor?" The woman spoke again, her voice distant, almost ethereal. "Doctor, I'm…."

Rey slowly withdrew her hand from the woman's and turned fully to the Doctor—had she already started calling him that? "What happened to her?" she hissed. "She was human—"

He pulled her a few steps away. "You remember I said that time energy could scatter you across ten different timestreams at once?" He nodded towards the woman, who stood like a frightened deer. "That's what happens. Her existence is being pulled in who-knows-how-many different directions. A human can't handle that."

"Can't we save her?" The feeling of the woman's hand in hers still lingered, and she could still see the searing terror in her eyes. "Please, we've got to—"

But the Doctor was staring past her, at the place where the woman stood, his face hard. For a moment, Rey was almost afraid to turn, afraid to see what she knew she would see.

The woman was gone.

"What happened…." She turned back to the Doctor. "What…."

But the look on his face told her exactly what had happened.

"She's gone," he said, and his voice was hard. "The only thing we can do now is stop this time energy at its source so it doesn't happen again."


	9. Part 1 Chapter 8

_**Author's Note:**_ _In which I severely date my story so that anyone reading it a few years from now will know exactly when I wrote it. Well, I couldn't help it….the plot demands what the plot demands…._

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

"Up here." Laila's voice sounded strangled in the little room. "My room—it's up here." She stepped towards the ladder and hesitated, the horror of what she had seen settling like a swirling darkness in her stomach, everything in her wanting to run.

There were _bodies_ up there.

She turned back to the Doctor. "I don't know if they're alive or—not alive." Somehow she couldn't bring herself to say the word. "And I don't know—I don't know how to—how to check." She forced herself to take another step forward, but the Doctor was ahead of her, bounding up the ladder and throwing the door open before she could take a breath.

She forced herself to follow him, each step heavy. Why had she gone and brought this stranger back here? Why—

Why.

This entire day was just— _why._

She stepped off the ladder and hovered in the doorway for a long moment, her hand gripping the rough wooden doorframe. The bodies—six of them—were laid out on a row of small cots, still as death, and pale as death too. And yet—she shuddered at the practicality of the thought. But if they were dead, they had to have died recently. They were whole, and, well—perfectly _intact._ Pale, certainly, and there was something strange about their complexion. Something unsettling. But they were—well—

She turned away, her hand over her mouth, leaning heavily on the doorframe. And to think she had dreamed of being a nurse when she was a little girl.

She heard a strange _wobble_ sound and turned to see the Doctor standing over the first of the bodies, holding the strange device he had used earlier, the blue light from its tip casting the woman's face in an even stranger light.

This had to be a dream. It _had_ to be. Some strange fever dream. Perhaps she was still lying unconscious on the pavement of Falling Star Lane.

And yet—it didn't feel like a dream. Dreams were different. Dreams were strange and floating and when she was in a dream, she always knew to some extent that she was dreaming. And when she woke up, she had never once questioned whether or not she was dreaming. One simply _knew_ that they were awake.

And she was awake.

But—she couldn't be.

The Doctor turned, his face glowing strangely in the light of the device and the half-light of the attic. "Alive," he said, and his voice was low. "But not _alive._ "

She just stared at him for a moment. "What?"

"Their bodies are technically alive—all the vital functions are there. But there's no mind—no consciousness. It's as if someone has stripped out everything that makes them, _them,_ and left them—just a body. Just a shell." He turned back to the row of cots. "An empty shell."

Slowly, Laila took a step forward. Somehow, knowing they weren't dead made it easier—easier to approach them, easier to look at them. She stepped to the nearest bedside and looked down at a woman, her eyes closed, her face pale, and her thick brown hair falling in wisps and curls on the pillow.

She reached forward, brushing a strand of hair back.

Her skin was cold. Too cold.

She shuddered and stepped back.

This was her room, this place that was now filled with bodies. The place where she had cried into her pillow the night Rob left. The place where she had written down stories as the sunlight filtered through the dusty windows and dreamed and scratched her name beside Rob's and written _Laila Blake_ in a hidden corner of the house-beams. _Laila Blake….._ she searched the wooden rafters absently. There…

She blinked. A calendar hung on the familiar wooden beam, hung over the place where she had scratched her name. For a moment she just stared at it, unable to process what she was seeing. Maybe it wasn't a calendar. Maybe it was some sort of record. Some sort of—

It was a calendar.

"Doctor." She choked out the word. "Doctor—look. It says—2018. March. 2018."


	10. Part 1 Chapter 9

_**Author's Note:**_ _….I have nothing to say but I'm OCD so I must put an author's note at the beginning of each chapter. Ummm happy Monday everyone. :P_

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

The Doctor—the man who called himself the Doctor—skidded to a stop in front of a house, the sonic screwdriver pointed directly in front of him. "Here. It's here. This is the epicenter. Whatever happened, it happened here." He strode up onto the porch, which creaked under his feet, and Rey scrambled up after him with a sigh. The door to the house lay fallen forward, as if blown out by some kind of explosion, and she could see glimpses of the inside of the house.

It was wobbly.

"We've got to be careful. There's time energy all over the place here." He took a careful step toward the door. "Follow me exactly."

She nodded quickly, the image of the frightened woman still hovering in her mind. She followed a few steps behind him as he stepped through the door and into the dusty living room, his eyes glued to the sonic screwdriver. He skidded to a stop in the middle of the living room and looked around.

"This doesn't make any sense!" He turned, looking in every direction. "According to my readings, this is the epicenter. This is where it happened. But there's nothing. Just a ridiculous amount of spilled time energy to account for it."

"So—it happened in the past." She kept carefully by his side. "Which means—"

"No." He turned towards the door. "I know what you're about to say, and no."

"You're not just leaving me here!" She darted after him and skidded to a stop, staring hard at the wall opposite her. "Uh…" She took a careful step closer, her eyes fixed on the wall, all thoughts of the stranger who called himself the Doctor banished from her mind.

Scratched into the wall, as if by the claws of some animal, was her name.

 _Rey._

The letters were sloppy and looked as if they had been scratched there in a hurry, and they were nearly covered with a layer of dirt and dust. She took a step closer, as if drawn by some force. The ancient wallpaper peeled away, falling in strips down the wall. She ran a finger across her name, leaving a swipe in the dirt—and revealing a hint of another word.

 _A message._

A message—written to her. From sometime in the past.

She spread the wallpaper back into place and brushed the dirt away with careful fingers. _Rey._ The words appeared piece by piece as she unearthed them from the dust. _He is the Doctor. March 2, 2018._

For a moment she just stared at the wall, trying to process what she was seeing. Someone from the past had known she would be here, in the future, to read this message. Someone—

 _He is the Doctor._

 _Doctor…._

"Doctor?" She turned, slowly. "Doctor, I'm—"

But he was gone.

Before she could stop herself, she was running. Running through the dusty living room, out the door, and stumbling down the creaking steps. She flew across the cracked pavement, the houses rushing by. "Doctor!" Her voice and the pounding of her footsteps were the only noises in the night. "Doctor—"

BB8 let out a screech and slammed into her legs, sending her stumbling sideways and falling into the grass with a little cry. She jumped to her feet, glaring at the droid.

"What was _that—"_

BB8 looked up at her and let out a little beep, swiveling its head between her and—something. She narrowed her eyes. The droid saw something—

Oh.

 _Oh._

That was the place where the woman had stood—the woman caught in time energy, whose existence had been pulled to pieces—the frightened woman. BB8 had—BB8 had—

She took a step forward, a little slower this time. She had to get out of here. She had to get out of this wasteland _now._

Before she suffered the same fate.

The houses loomed up like shadowy ghosts, blocking out the stars, as she made her way through the dark town. And the fog was creeping in again, like a cold, heavy blanket. Was it fog or time energy? She couldn't tell. But she tried to keep a sharp lookout for that strange wobble, each step careful, keeping the cracked path in front of her like a lifeline. BB8 moved behind her like a shadow in the night.

The gate loomed up before her like a prison gate and she came to a stop, scanning along it. The Doctor couldn't have just jumped in and left—not so quickly. Could he?

 _Please—please._

 _He's my only way out._

She took a step closer, her heart thumping in her ears, her fingers tightening on her staff. "Doctor?" Her voice seemed small in the darkness, and yet it echoed. "Doctor, are you—"

Her eyes fell on a large block of shadow and then she was darting forward, grabbing at the door handles, and tugging. "Doctor!" She pounded on the door. "Doctor, I know where to—argh!" She let out a little cry of frustration and tugged again—and then drew the key from her pocket, slipped it in the keyhole, and swung the door open, stepping inside.

"She's uncomfortable," the Doctor said without turning. "She wants out of here, badly. Something's wrong. Something's very, very wrong. I'm leaving. And you're not—" He turned suddenly, staring at her. "What's that?" he said. "In your hand."

"It's—the key? The key to the TARDIS…" She leveled a steady gaze at him. "Doctor. Listen. I know where to go. There was a message—"

He strode towards her and her hand went slowly to her staff. If he really was the Doctor he wouldn't hurt her. He wouldn't throw her out or steal the key or—or—

He slammed the door behind her. "Get in," he said. "You're coming with me."


	11. Part 1 Chapter 10

_**Author's Note:**_ _Gah short chapter, sorry about that!_

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

"Now, listen." The Doctor leaned against the rafters, one eyebrow raised, his hands shoved in his pockets. "You told me it was 1943. Why would you tell me it was 1943? And you obviously believe it, too."

"Because it _is_ 1943," she said hotly. "I mean—it was. I'm not some—"

"So you came here, somehow, and didn't realize it. You're obviously not lying. Besides the fact that I trust you—and I'm fairly good at knowing who to trust, you know—you've obviously stepped out of the past. I mean…" He gestured towards her. "The hair, the clothes, you look like a perfect picture. So somehow, you've gone through some sort of—oh. Ooooh." He grinned. "A time slip! Some kind of time slip. Tell me. Tell me _exactly_ what happened before you found me."

She balanced from one foot to the other, staring hard at the floor. The presence of the strange, mindless bodies made her uncomfortable—she felt as if they might be listening, somehow.

And that calendar. Staring at her out of the shadows. _2018._

"So this is what the future looks like," she murmured. The cars. The odd-looking light switch and lights. The strange device in the living room. "It's not—it's not how I imagined it. How _we_ imagined it." She sighed. "Me and Rob, we used to go through walks through the cemetery and imagine the future. Strange, I know." She smiled a little. "It was us. _Is._ " She cleared her throat. "It _is_ us. Anyway, I, uh—you were asking—"

He smiled a little lopsided smile. "How you got here."

"Uh, Falling Star Lane. I decided to walk down—I got a wild fancy to walk down Falling Star Lane. Rob had dared me to do it years before and—well, that's kind of a long and irrelevant story there. Anyway, it was night when I started. I think I blacked out or something. I don't know what happened. I felt sort of—dizzy. Not dizzy. Not exactly. I'm not sure how to describe it. But when I woke up, I—I was here."

He raised an eyebrow. "Now, what I'm really curious about here is this _Falling Star Lane._ If it's the kind of place people dare other people to enter—"

"Oh—right. You're not from around here. Everyone here knows—it's kind of a spooky old neighborhood, there's lots of odd rumors about it. Some of the kids say a star fell there years ago. Sometimes they say it can eat people. Of course, that's just a silly rumor…" Her voice trailed off as she realized he was staring at her. "W—what—"

"As far as I'm concerned, nothing's just a silly rumor. I need you to take me to this Falling Star Lane. Now."

"A—alright." She stepped towards the ladder, glad for an excuse to get out of the attic, out of the presence of the strange bodies and the calendar. She set her foot on the first rung—

And she heard the click of a door opening.

She let out a little gasp and stumbled backward, closing the door behind her. "Doctor," she hissed. "Someone's coming." She glanced at the bodies, and then at the Doctor, and their eyes met. And they both _understood._

Whatever had happened to these bodies, whoever was keeping them here wouldn't want them discovered.

And the same thing could very well happen to them.

"Quick, lock the door," she hissed. " _Now._ "


	12. Part 1 Chapter 11

_**Author's Note:**_ _Hehehehehehehehe. Can you tell I'm having way too much fun with this? :P_

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

"Alright." Rey lowered her hand from her staff and stepped to the console. "So, it was 2018—wait." She just looked at him for a long moment. "You're helping me? Why are you helping me?"

"Because you have the key."

"What?"

"Obviously my future self cares quite a bit about you, if I gave you the key. I don't just go around handing out keys to the TARDIS." He turned back to the console and flipped a switch. His voice was low. "I know what it's like to lose someone you love. I drop you off and leave, understood?"

She nodded. "More than I expected. The date is March 2, 2018. There was some kind of message—"

"A message from the past? Well then. He really wants to find you, then."

"What—oh. _Oh._ "

 _He really wants to find you…_

The light began to pulse up and down the center of the console and the familiar _vwoorp_ sound filled the room.

 _Obviously my future self cares quite a bit about you…_

The light stopped, and the TARDIS settled into place with a slight thump. She was at the door in a moment, throwing it open and stepping out.

She looked out upon the same town she had stood in a few moments before.

But it was _alive._ The grass was green beneath her feet, and the afternoon sunlight shone warm on her face. A few people stood chatting outside of a nearby house—the door, the door was the same, but it was whole now—and all around her she could feel the warmth and bustle of a living city.

She was probably the only one who knew its fate.

The door slammed shut behind her and she turned to see the Doctor emerging into the sunlight, flipping buttons on his sonic screwdriver.

"According to my readings, this is the source of the trouble." He glanced back at the TARDIS. "She's still uncomfortable. She's more uncomfortable than I've ever seen her." He set a hand on the side of the blue box as if comforting a skittish animal. "She wants to get out of here."

Rey squared her shoulders. "Well, I'm going. I'm going to find the Doctor—"

"And I'm going with you."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"There's some kind of major trouble here, and the best person to look for when there's trouble is always the Doctor." He smirked. "If I know myself, I'll be right in the middle of it. Come along then!" He flipped a button on his sonic screwdriver and it beeped. "Oh, fantastic," he muttered. "I try to track myself and it picks up on…..myself. Should have expected that, really. Well, what do you say we head towards the—oh! Here we are." And before Rey could take a breath, he was off down the sidewalk. She huffed and started after him. Well—he was certainly the Doctor.

She took in every detail of her surroundings as she followed him, looking around with wide eyes. 2018—the Revolution, Atlantis, that was all in the far past now. This was the future.

The sound of an engine brought her head around and she stopped to look as some kind of landspeeder zoomed past. Landspeeder? Well, it was the only word she could think of to describe it. It rode directly on the ground—no antigravity technology, then. At least, not here. It seemed to be directed by some kind of steering device—

But then it was gone, turning a corner, and she directed her attention back to the Doctor. He stopped in front of a small house, a familiar house. She blinked. Which one was this? She knew she had seen it—

"Whatever I'm picking up on, it's in here." He swung the door open and stepped inside. The house was empty and rather dark, curtains closed against the bright afternoon sunlight. She looked around, blinking. Was this—

It was. It was the first house she had entered, with the ladder that led up to the little attic room. Barely thinking, she took off down the hallway. There had been something odd about that attic—

She was up the ladder in a few bounds, tugging on the door.

It was locked.

* * *

The door rattled. Laila looked up, her eyes wide in the attic half-light. "Doctor…."

He put a finger to her lips and pulled the strange glowy device from his pocket again. "Quiet," he hissed. "But let them come. Anyone who would do this to a person is going to have to face me."

* * *

"Doctor," Rey hissed, turning, one foot still on the rung of the ladder. "Sonic screwdriver. Now."

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Door's locked and I hear voices inside." She held out a hand. "Screwdriver."

"I hardly think you'll know how to use it, but here." He tossed the device. She caught it, turned it over in her fingers, and flipped a button. "And do be careful with it, will you? I really don't want to lose it."

"Thanks." She pressed it against the lock. It wobbled for a moment, then flickered out. She growled. "It's not working!"

* * *

Laila frantically searched the little attic she knew so well. There was nowhere to go—nowhere to hide. Would she become one of those bodies, her mind, her very _self_ erased? What kind of horrible experiments had been performed here? She shuddered and back away from the door as the lock clicked—

The Doctor pressed the strange device—had he called it a _sonic screwdriver?_ —against the lock, and his face had a grim set to it. "Good luck with that," he muttered.

* * *

Rey let out a little cry of frustration. The door had locked itself again! "Doctor! Something's locking it from the inside!" She pressed the sonic screwdriver up against the lock again, pressing the button harder this time, as if it would help. The lock began to click—

And clicked shut again.

"Oh, come _on!_ " She rattled the doorknob. "Just let us in, for heaven's sake!"

Silence fell on the other side of the door. And then the knob turned in her fingers and the door swung open.

The Doctor stood there in the doorway, his sonic screwdriver in his hand.

For a moment they just stared at each other, and then she was in his arms, and he was swinging her in a circle, lifting her feet from the floor. "I've found you!" she cried, laughing. "I've finally found you!" The sonic screwdriver in her hand clattered to the floor and then he had set her down and was staring at it, one eyebrow raised.

"Now what—" His eyes moved between her and the screwdriver, and then he leaned down and picked it up. "That—that's my screwdriver—" His gaze went past her and she followed it to see the other Doctor at the foot of the ladder, staring up at them.

"If you don't mind, I'd like my screwdriver back," he said.

"Oh." The Doctor— _her_ Doctor—ran his fingers through his hair and stared, one eyebrow raised. " _Oh._ "

* * *

 _End of Part 1._


	13. Part 2 Prologue

_**Author's Note:**_ _Beginning of Part 2! And double Doctors hehe_

* * *

 **Prologue**

"Oh," said the Doctor again. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. " _Oh._ "

"Yeah, uh…" Rey looked between them, and suddenly she couldn't think of anything to say. "Uh, I think a bit of explaining is in order…"

"No, no explanations. I think we all know exactly what's going on here." The Doctor who stood beside her stared down the ladder, his eyes fixed on the other Doctor below. "Something that's not supposed to happen. Something that's _never_ supposed to happen. Although…" His voice dropped its deadly serious tone. "Considering it's happened twice before in my life, I'm really starting to question that whole rule." Leaning down, he picked up the other sonic screwdriver and tossed it down the ladder. The Doctor—the other Doctor—caught it and slipped it in his pocket. "Oh, and keep that safe," he said. "You're going to need it quite a bit in the future. Now—" He pushed past Rey and was down the ladder in a few bounds. "Oooh, never seen myself from the outside like that. Bit of an odd feeling. Love the leather jacket though, it really suits you."

"You're me, then. Future me." The other Doctor just looked at him for a long moment. "Seems I've gotten more talkative. And younger, too. Wonder what brought that on."

"Um." A voice spoke behind Rey and she turned to see that a young woman stood in the shadows of the little attic. She was about the same age as her, her face framed in brown curls and written over with confusion. "Um—what—"

Rey shook her head. "It's—a long story." She offered the girl a smile. "I'm Rey, by the way. I'm the Doctor's friend—traveling companion. Uh, that Doctor. The one with the brown jacket. The one you were with." She made a face. "They're both the Doctor. It's—a long story."

"I'm Laila. Laila Blake—I mean—Wood." She managed a little smile. "And—well—honestly, I'm not sure how much stranger this day can get. I just found out I jumped 70 years in the future and I don't know _how._ " She glanced at the two Doctors who stood at the foot of the ladder. "So honestly, you can just hit me with your best shot and I might even believe you."

Rey found herself laughing. "Well, the Doctor is…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes went wide as she looked down and realized she was standing by one of the beds she had seen in the future—

And it had a _person_ in it.

She stepped back and little, her eyes fixed on the woman, lying still as death in the little cot. "What—"

"We don't know." Laila's voice was small, and her eyes had the look of a frightened deer. "The Doctor said their mind isn't in there, it's just their bodies—when we heard you coming, we—"

"Right." Rey reached for her staff and turned to the ladder. "You thought—"

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and the four of them all turned to the doorway, Rey slowly beginning to draw her staff from its holster. The Doctor— _her_ Doctor—lunged for the door and shoved it closed. Two sonic screwdrivers whipped out at once, pointed at the lock.

The two Doctors froze, staring at each other.

Rey sighed. "Oh, this is going to be confusing," she muttered.


	14. Part 2 Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**_ _Challenges of writing a double-Doctor story: how do I differentiate the Doctors in writing? "The Doctor" and "The Other Doctor?" AaRgH_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

The wobble of two sonic screwdrivers sounded at once, and the lock clicked and then unclicked. The two Doctors both lowered their screwdrivers and sighed.

"Alright, we really need to come to an agreement on this one." The Doctor— _her_ Doctor—motioned between them. "I lock, you unlock, something like that. Otherwise—"

The door opened and a middle-aged man stepped in, his face hard and determined. He froze, his hand on the doorknob, staring at the four of them, Rey and Laila standing in the attic, the two Doctors staring at him from the foot of the ladder.

"Otherwise that will happen?" the other Doctor said.

"Yeah." The Doctor gave a little wave at the man who stood frozen in the doorway. "Hello," he said lightly.

For a long moment the man just stood there staring blankly, as if the sight refused to register in his mind. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it, then opened it again, and then the color drained from his face and he turned, poised to flee.

He turned back, his hand still gripping the doorknob so hard his knuckles turned white. "Get out," he hissed. "Get out, now. Or I'm calling the police."

The Doctor— _her_ Doctor—stepped forward, his hands in his pockets. "Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, his voice light but his gaze sharp. "Considering what they'd find up _there,_ " he nodded to the attic, "I don't think that would end well for you."

"We just want to ask you a few questions." The other Doctor stepped forward, leveling a steady gaze at the man. "For example, why are there bodies in your attic?"

"Oooh, I had forgotten how straight and to the point you were." Her Doctor raised an eyebrow. "That's good, I like that." He nodded to the other Doctor, then turned back to the stranger in the doorway. "What he said."

The man edged backwards, shrinking away from the four pairs of eyes that were fixed on him. "Who are you?" he said, and his eyes darted across the room as if searching for a weapon. "Why are you in my house?"

As if on cue, both Doctors reached for their pockets. "Investigators," they said at once, whipping two sheets of psychic paper from their pockets and letting them fall open.

Laila stared wide-eyed. "Investigators?" she murmured.

Rey nudged her. "Play your part," she hissed. "And the paper's fake. Long story."

"Listen." The man's voice was low. "I have no idea how you found out, but I don't want this looked into. If my sister…." His voice trailed off and he muttered what sounded like a curse under his breath. "If you want money, I can give you that. Just name your price, and—"

"We should report you for that!" Laila tripped down the ladder and was standing in front of him in an instant, her arms crossed. "We don't take _bribes,_ mister. You try that again, and any hope of leniency from us is gone. You hear me?"

"I don't know who you are or what you want, but I can assure you that every single person up there is up there by their own consent." He held his head high and met their gazes with a dark gaze of his own. "What I'm doing in that attic is nobody's concern but my own, understood?"

Rey narrowed her eyes. She had grown up as a scavenger, scrabbling for her life on a harsh desert planet. She knew—she had _learned_ to know—when someone was lying.

"Oh, I don't think that's strictly true. What do you think?" Her Doctor raised an eyebrow at the other Doctor. "And I wouldn't cross us if I were you. We just want to know why you're keeping bodies in your attic."

"As any normal person _would!_ " Laila burst out. She crossed her arms and met the man's gaze fearlessly. "Listen here, mister. I don't know who you are or what you're doing in _my_ attic, but I won't have some kind of sinister experiments happening in my house. I don't know what you did to those poor people—"

"I didn't do a thing to them!" he burst out. "I found them! And I _won't_ be bossed around by a teenager who looks like she dressed up in costume!"

"Dressed up…" Laila's cheeks turned bright red and she took a deep breath. "I'd say _you're_ the one…"

" _Now_ we're getting somewhere." Her Doctor stepped forward, seeming to tower over the man. "Tell us more."

He turned, edging away from the Doctor, and looked, again, as if he were about to flee wildly. At once, both sonic screwdrivers appeared again, and both wobbled at once.

The lock clicked behind him, and then unclicked.

The two Doctors looked at each other.

Her Doctor shrugged and lowered his sonic screwdriver. The lock clicked closed.

The man fumbled at the doorknob and tensed, his eyes fixed on the sonic screwdriver. He let his hand drop to his side and stared hard at the floor.

"I found them." His voice was low and hard. "I found them along Falling Star Lane. Unconscious. Like this. So I brought them back. I thought I could fix them." Rey thought she heard a waver in his voice, a crack in the hard mask. "Take them if you want." He seemed to be forcing the words out. "But don't report me, sir. I have a job and a—"

"There it is again, _Falling Star Lane._ You people keep mentioning that." Her Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Obviously that's the key to this whole mess. I want all the details. Tell me everything. How did you find them? Where? When? How long—"

"I already told you! I found them so—"

"So you did the obvious, logical thing and _didn't_ call an ambulance, or the police, or anything," the other Doctor said dryly. "Seems we're dealing with a typical human here. Always trying to fix things themselves."

"Hey now, humans aren't so bad!" Her Doctor raised an eyebrow at him. "Ah, you've got a long way to go. Say, have you met Rose yet? Asked her to travel—"

Rey sighed and started down the ladder. "Take us to Falling Star Lane," she said firmly.


	15. Part 2 Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:**_ _Allow me to have a slight freak-out at the ending of this chapter because I AM SO EXCITED TIME TRAVEL AND MEAN AUTHOR-NESS AND TIME TRAVEL AAAAH lol_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Laila stepped forward, staring at the man, fire in her eyes. "No," she snapped. " _I'll_ show you the way to Falling Star Lane. I don't trust—" She nodded towards him. " _Him._ " She spit out the word as if it tasted sour.

"You know, I'm inclined to agree with you." The Doctor stuffed his hands in his pockets and grinned. "Lead the way, Laila."

She dropped her gaze and smiled a little, and stepped to the door. Her hand closed around the doorknob—and she sighed.

"Doctor, you're going to have to—"

Two sonic screwdrivers appeared at once and both Doctors froze.

"Alright, this is really going to get awkward." It was her Doctor who spoke. "What do you say, I unlock, you lock? I've always liked unlocking—"

Laila crossed her arms. "This is all very confusing but I'd like out of the room, thank you."

"….right." Before the other Doctor could say a word, her Doctor had pushed a button on his sonic screwdriver and the lock clicked. Laila shoved the door open, pushing her way past the man and out into the hallway.

"Everyone follow me!" Her voice held a hint of excitement and Rey thought she saw a bit of a smile dancing around her lips. She glanced at the man and the smile turned to a slight frown. "Including you, I guess. I don't want you by yourself in my house."

He bristled. "This is _my_ house, miss," he snapped, but both Doctors stepped on either side of him like a pair of guards, two wallets with psychic paper displaying some kind of ID appearing once again. He narrowed his eyes, but stopped talking.

They stepped out the front door and into the bright afternoon sunlight, Laila marching ahead of them, her head held high, determination written over her face. Rey stepped to her side with a little smile of greeting—she would let the two Doctors deal with the unpleasant man, whoever he was. BB8 bumped along beside her and looked up at Laila with a little happy beep of greeting.

Laila looked down and froze, her eyes wide. Every hint of determination melted from her face. She let out a little gasp and then she was on her knees beside the little droid, reaching out to touch it, still wide-eyed.

"The future—I'm in the future." Her voice was a little breathless. "What is it? Is it—alive?"

"Not technically. He's a droid. Standard BB unit." BB8 let out a little unhappy beep and Rey smiled a little. "Although sometimes he does that and I do wonder."

"A—droid?" Laila jumped to her feet. "What's a droid?"

"Oh. You're from the—did you say you were from the past?" Rey looked at her for a moment. How far in the past? The time of the Revolution—no, that wasn't right. She ran over the timeline in her head. Probably sooner than that. "When—"

"You say that like it's so….so normal." Laila stared at her, and her gaze was somehow both frightened and excited at once. "Is this the future, then? Are you from—you're with the Doctor?" She clasped her hands together and bounced a little on her feet. "Are you from 2018? Is this the future? What's a droid? I'm asking too many questions…." Her voice trailed off and she stared for a long moment at the little droid. "I'm sorry…."

Rey grinned a little. "Oh no, you're not! A droid is…." She paused for a moment. She kept having to explain droids to people who didn't know what they were. "Like…like a robot….sort of? Although that's a rather old-fashioned name for them…"

"Robot? _Old fashioned_?" A little giggle escaped, and Laila clasped her hands together. "They've got robots now? That just follow you around like….he's so cute! Like a little puppy dog!" He reached down and toyed with BB8's antennae for a moment, still grinning.

"Now? I'm not entirely sure they have them _now…._ " She looked around. "2018? Traveling with the Doctor, you sort of…." Her voice trailed off. "You lose track….considering they don't have antigravity, I hardly think they'd have this kind of droid yet."

" _Antigravity_?" Laila stared at her. "Anti….oh goodness. Oh my goodness. I can't wait to tell Rob….alright we need to get going!" She started off down the street again, a grin sparkling across her face, her eyes shining. "To Falling Star Lane!"

Rey started after her with a little grin. She had to admit, she rather liked these sorts of reactions to things that were completely normal for her. It felt—it felt like everything was suddenly new and exciting again.

 _Is this how the Doctor feels?_

"Edward. Edward Wood." Rey turned and realized she had fallen behind Laila a bit and was walking beside the Doctor—well, the _Doctors._ The man's voice was grudging, but he held out a hand to introduce himself, dropping it to his side when neither one of them offered a hand in return. "And for the record, I'm the owner of the house. And I don't trust the girl. She's—odd."

"Well, actually…." Her Doctor ran his fingers through his hair and raised an eyebrow. "She's not exactly from _now._ Bit of a long story there, and I don't actually know all of it. Which is why we're heading to Falling Star Lane, if you hadn't already figured that out."

The man leveled a sharp gaze at the Doctor. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Considering you're keeping a room full of bodies in your attic, I'd think you'd have a bit more of a sense that reality is not always as it seems," the other Doctor snapped. "Now, I don't think you ever finished answering those questions of ours."

* * *

Laila felt as if she were floating. Rey—the girl from the future, the future that was even farther way than now, 2018, which was also the future—she couldn't process it all. The Doctor, the other man who called himself the Doctor but was obviously a different man—or was he? Rey had said it was a long story—

She had wandered off a few moments ago with a word to Rey. She wanted to explore, she wanted to see the town, and—well, there was just too much to see if she went right back where she came from, right back to Falling Star Lane.

She glanced back at the group. Edward whoever-he-was was leading them now. She frowned. She didn't trust him. She didn't trust him…

Rey looked back at her with a smile and a wave, and Laila saw the long staff that hung from a holster at her back.

Rey could handle herself. And so could the Doctor.

She waved back and turned toward the town, excitement twinkling inside her.

She was in the future.

She was in the _future._

Her eyes fell on a parked car and before she could stop herself, she had tripped over and was peering in the window. What did cars look like in the future? She cupped her hands around her face as her eyes adjusted to the inside of the car. The sound of footsteps—and a cane thumping on the sidewalk—brought her head up and she started as she looked up to see an old man approaching. She flushed suddenly and stepped back, realizing what she must have looked like.

"I'm sorry, sir," she mumbled, then looked up at him. "Mr.—Mr. Cartwright?" she blurted out.

He smiled a rather pleasant smile. "That'd be me," he said with a laugh. "Now go on and stop peeking into my car, girl."

She nodded. "I—I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to, I wasn't going to….sorry, Mr. Cartwright…."

He laughed again. "A little thing like you couldn't do much damage anyway," he said, making shooing motions with his hands. "And besides, you remind me of an old friend of mine. Now go on." He raised an eyebrow. "I've got a very important appointment and as I'm getting rather too old to walk to these things, I believe I'm going to need that car you were peeking in the window of."

She managed a little smile. "Thank you, Mr. Cartwright," she said, a little giggle escaping before she turned and ran.

And skidded to a stop as the realization hit her so hard it nearly knocked her backwards.

That couldn't be Mr. Cartwright. It was 2018. He would have—he couldn't be—

 _You remind me of an old friend of mine…._

Her hand flew to her mouth. Eddy? Eddy Cartwright?

She had to close her eyes for a moment, the thought refusing to register in her mind. No—no—that was just _weird._ That was just properly _weird._ Eddy Cartwright was an old man. Eddy Cartwright, who she had played with in the park as a little girl. Eddy Cartwright, who had flirted with her sister as a teenager. Eddy Cartwright….

She shook her head. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to follow that thought to its logical conclusion….

She came to a stop next to Miller's Drugstore, staring. It wasn't—well, she shouldn't be surprised, really. It's not as if it would still be a store after 75 years. _75 years._ For a moment she just stood there, staring at the door.

And then she was walking forward and tugging the door open, stepping inside.

A post office. Alright.

For a moment she just stood there, looking around. It was oddly different. Not so different as she had expected, but still—different. She felt as if she were walking through a dream, as if the whole world was slightly off. Her fingers tightened on the doorknob, as if she was steadying herself. It was Miller's Drugstore. She could see the old walls there, the counter….

She stared at the woman behind the counter for a long moment. She was typing on some kind of strange device. It looked like a typewriter, but with some kind of screen attached. She remembered the screen she had seen in her living room….

She wished the Doctor was here. He wouldn't give her strange looks for asking questions.

"Hello, ma'am. Can I help you?" Laila jumped at the woman's voice and shook her head quickly.

"No, it's—I'm fine—" She took a slow step backwards and then she was out the door, slamming it behind her, flushing furiously. She shouldn't have wandered off…she should just join the group again…she should….

She was only a few blocks away from the park.

As soon as the thought popped into her mind, she was off. She _had_ to know if the park was still there. She had to! She was grinning and a bit out of breath when the little shady haven appeared in front of her. It _was—_ oh, it _was_ still here! She stepped off of the sidewalk and into the soft grass, the shadows of the trees flickering about her.

She looked around, a soft smile touching her lips. She and the kids had played here so often—her and her sister and brother—Eddy Cartwright—Rob—she came to a stop and looked up, laughing suddenly. Ellie's tree was still standing!

She giggled at the memory—they had been about 10, the whole group of them. Technically they weren't supposed to climb trees in the park, but the boys had dared them to, and—well. They had been shouted at by a policeman, but it had been rather worth it.

She stopped at the edge of the park, looking over the cemetery which butted up against it. They used to stand here and make up strange stories about it, especially when evening was coming on and the shadows were beginning to creep in. Sometimes, when she was alone, she would wander through the gravestones, wondering who the people were, what their lives had been—what stories they could tell.

She wandered forward, drawing in a deep breath of the summer afternoon air. Air that existed in the _future._ She let out a long sigh and smiled a little. It was odd, she knew—but she had always loved the peace of the cemetery, the feeling of being surrounded by so many memories. She came to a stop, resting her hand on the trunk of a great, old tree. She had sat here so many times with her journal, drops of ink dripping into the grass beside her….

Her and Rob had had so many conversations here, under this great tree….

She ran her fingers down the bark. It was old now, and scarred with age. And beneath it was a new gravestone.

She leaned down, hesitating a moment. Perhaps—perhaps she shouldn't look. Perhaps it was something she shouldn't see. Perhaps—

 _Robert Blake._

 _And his loving wife, Laila Blake._

For a moment, her mind refused to acknowledge what she was seeing. She shook her head, staring dully at the gravestone in front of her.

 _Laila Blake…_

Almost against her will, her eyes went to her death date.

2013.

She would have been 80, then.

The thought was strangely calm, as if the truth of it hadn't registered in her mind yet. _Laila Blake._ The shadows of the tree above her flickered across the stone, across the dates and names written on it, and a breeze ruffled her hair. She took a deep breath, and felt suddenly weak. _Robert Blake…_

Her eyes fell on the date below the name, and she jumped to her feet, stumbling backwards and catching herself on the tree.

1945.

 _1945._

No—no—surely not—it couldn't be. Maybe she had read it wrong. Maybe it was 1954 or 1995 or—or—or—it couldn't be. It _couldn't_ be. Surely—he couldn't have—if they were married—no—no—

She started at the sound of a footstep and looked up to see a woman approaching, a bundle of flowers in her hand. Laila managed a slight nod in greeting, but couldn't manage a smile.

1945.

 _1945._

"Sorry!" The woman shot her a friendly smile. "Didn't mean to startle you! Just coming to put some flowers on my great aunt Laila's grave."


	16. Part 2 Chapter 3

_**Author's Note:**_ _When I said Laila took over half the story, I wasn't kidding. :P_

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Laila nearly fell backwards into the tree. Her hand flew to her mouth and she stared wide-eyed at the woman. "Great—aunt— _Laila_?" She took a deep breath and shook her head, forcing herself to stand on her own, to meet the woman's friendly gaze. "I—I'm sorry. You—uh—startled me." She stared hard at the woman, her thoughts swirling like a sudden blizzard. A bit older than her— _older._ She had thick blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and her clothes were—well, Laila supposed styles would have changed over 70 years. But still. They were decidedly _odd._

And she thought she could see a hint of her own features in the woman's face.

"Goodness, you look as if you've seen a ghost!" The woman laughed, then looked around, the laugh turning to a slightly mischievous smirk. "And I'd say that's rather unlikely, even if we are standing in a graveyard. Besides, I think they tend to come out at night, don't they?"

 _Ghost….seen a ghost…._

The words tickled something in the back of her mind, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. For a long moment she just stared at the woman, blinking. "I'm sorry, do I….do I know you?"

She just looked at Laila for a moment. "You know….you seem familiar too. Though I can't imagine where I've seen you." She held out a hand with a friendly smile. "I'm Allison Wood. Are you new in town?"

"I…." For a moment Laila just stared at her. The words _no I'm actually old in town_ popped into her head but she bit them back. _Great aunt Laila…._ "I'm….I'm just passing through. I'm…." Her voice trailed off and she looked away, searching desperately in her mind for a name. She couldn't just introduce herself as _Laila Wood._ "I'm Ellie. Ellie Blake." She took the woman's outstretched hand and shook it a little stiffly. She couldn't make sense of what was happening. She couldn't imagine that this could all be _real—_

"Oh, Blake? Some kind of relation?" The woman's voice drew her from her thoughts and she started a little and looked up.

"Uh, yeah. Distant cousin." Goodness, she was a horrible liar. "I was, uh, passing through, so…" She shrugged and nodded towards the gravestone. _Robert Blake. Died 1945._ "Y—you know. Decided to—"

"Oh, what kind of cousin, then?" Sudden interest flared across Allison's face. "I've been doing some research into my family history lately—I find it kind of fascinating…..I want to know where I came from." She smiled, and there was something dreamy in her eyes. "And besides, there's something about touching the past, you know?"

Laila found herself smiling a little. "Yeah…I know." How often had she stared at her grandmother's old, yellowed letters, and wondered what kind of woman she had been?

Wondered if she would have been friends with her, if they could have met?

"So you're Laila's—uh—great-niece, right?" It felt so strange, talking about herself like this—as if she were a different person—a person from the _past._ "I've—uh—I've not looked much into my family history, myself. But you'd be from her—her brother, is it?"

Allison grinned. "Yes! Eddy Wood was my grandfather." She laughed. "This is….honestly, what are the odds? I've always sort of wondered if this kind of thing really happened, you know, in real life. Running into a random distant relative in a graveyard…"

"I know, it sounds like something out of a story." Laila found herself laughing. "Maybe we'll find out we've inherited a large amount of wealth from some random uncle we didn't know we had."

Allison burst out laughing. "Oh my—oh my gosh! That's genius." Her grin was infectious, and Laila couldn't help smiling back. "Hey so—we should keep up. Where did you say you were from?"

"I…." She paused for a long moment. Here she was, Laila Wood, the girl who always made up stories, completely at a loss for a good story. "Well, I actually grew up here. Moved away. Planning on—um—moving back soon. When I'm….married…." She cringed at her own awkwardness and suddenly wanted to either run away and never look Allison in the face again, or blurt out the truth. "The, uh, the town's changed quite a bit since I've lived here."

"Oh—congratulations!" Allison's gaze went to the ring on her finger, and Laila thought she saw a hint of wistfulness flicker across her face like a passing breeze. "When's the big day?"

Laila shook her head, her eyes moving to the gravestone. "I—I'm not sure. We haven't set a date." Her voice was quiet. "He's fighting overseas."

For once, the words were genuine.

She tried to smile again and forced her gaze away from the gravestone. "Anyway—enough about that. What ever happened to the old house? You know, the old Wood house." The words were carefully light, conversational. As if she had no more interest in it than—well, a distant cousin.

A shadow passed across Allison's face. "Oh—Edward got it. My brother, I mean." She sighed. "I wanted it, but….well…." She shrugged. "At least it's in the family, I guess."

Laila raised an eyebrow. "Your _brother_?" Had that—that _man—_ been Allison's _brother?_ She clenched her fists at her sides and felt her cheeks grow hot. "So do you happen to know why your brother's keeping bodies in his attic? Not bodies—people!" The words came out before she could stop them and she froze when she realized what she had just said, staring wide-eyed at Allison. "I…." She forced the word out, but couldn't finish the sentence. "I…"

Allison's eyebrows shot up and she stared at Laila. "He's _what_?" Fire simmered below her voice. "He's— _what?_ "

"I'm sorry, it's really kind of a long story and it's really hard to explain." The words tumbled out, falling over each other. "See I met this man called the Doctor and he's an investigator but Rey said he was a fake one—but I didn't know that—and—and—and…." Her voice trailed off. "I sound like a crazy person," she said in a small voice.

For a moment Allison just stood there, staring at her. Her eyes flamed and she gripped the bouquet of flowers, _hard._

"I….I'm sorry….I'm sorry I was in your house?" Laila managed.

"It's not my house," she said darkly, and turned, dropping the flowers on the gravestone and stalking off across the graveyard without another word.


	17. Part 2 Chapter 4

_**Author's Note:**_ _Don't worry, I promise we'll be getting back to the adventures of our heroes in the next chapter. :P_

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

For a moment, Laila just stood there, staring as the woman walked away. Oh—she shouldn't have even tried. She shouldn't have tried to explain the insanity that had been today to—to a total stranger. And now if she really tried to explain—if she tried to make it up to her—she would end up babbling hopelessly about time travel and Falling Star Lane and—and Allison would think she was crazy. She probably already did. And a liar, too.

She rested her hand on the cool, rough granite of the gravestone with a sigh.

 _Her_ gravestone.

"Allison?" Her voice sounded small in the expanse of the cemetery. "Allison, I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

The woman came to a stop, slowly, and turned back. The fire in her eyes had died, replaced with shame and a bit of sadness. "I'm sorry—it wasn't you." Her shoulders drooped a bit, and she stared hard at her feet. "It's just—my brother—he's been odd, lately. I don't know—ever since his wife disappeared, it's like—he's seemed—darker, almost. I know that sounds—overdramatic—or something, but it's the only way I can explain it. He hasn't texted me in ages and the last time I tried to call him he proceeded to tell me he was in the middle of something very important and hung up on me. I don't know what's…." Her voice trailed off. "Uh, sorry. I hardly know you and I'm dumping my personal issues on you. Sorry." She turned away, then hesitated. "Look. I can't just leave you standing in the graveyard and wondering. And you—I don't know how, but you seem to know something. I'm going to go peek into my brother's attic. Come with me?"

Laila sighed. She didn't want to go back there, didn't want to see those bodies again, still as death. But—well—she didn't want to stand here in the graveyard either. And—

She didn't want to lose the chance to get to know her great-niece. It was so strange, and she couldn't even wrap her mind around it. But she knew that someday, she would regret letting her walk away. So she managed a little smile.

"Sure. I'll come," she said, turning away from the gravestone. A sudden and rather devilish urge took hold of her, and she reached down, picked up a flower, and stuck it in her hair.

They were for her, after all.

The cemetery was dappled with mid-afternoon shadows and a peaceful silence settled around them as they made their way between the gravestones. How often had she wandered through here, wondering about the lives of those who now lay in their final resting place? And now…..she shivered at the thought. Her _body…._

They came to the edge of the cemetery and stepped into a little parking lot. Laila looked around, blinking. This hadn't been here when she lived here. The park had been a nice little haven in the middle of the town, and no one _drove_ there. Allison came to a stop in front of a car and pulled something—keys?—out of her pocket. Laila peered at the odd little device—a key, obviously, but—well, Allison was stepping into the car and starting it now, and she supposed she should follow and not just stand here staring like an idiot.

She found herself grinning a little as she stepped inside. Finally she got to see the inside of one of these things!

She slid into the seat beside Allison and closed the door beside her, looking around, trying to take in every detail. It was all so—well, she didn't even know how to describe it. She bounced up and down in the seat and ran her finger down the inside of the door—but what caught her attention, and held it, was the dashboard in front of her. It was filled with strange little buttons and dials and none of them made any _sense._ She reached forward, her finger hovering over a button. Was it something like she had seen in the post office, some kind of strange new technology that she didn't even know the use for? She touched the button, then pressed it.

Music blared through the car.

She started and drew her hand back, staring wide-eyed at the dashboard. "S—sorry—" She flushed a little and shot a quick glance at Allison. The woman must think she was a total idiot. "I, uh…." Did she press the button again, or would it do something strange?

"Oh, you can change the channel if you'd like." Allison looked over at her, and Laila could feel her staring. "Seatbelt?"

She blinked. Seatbelt? She looked carefully at Allison and saw that she had drawn what she supposed was the _seatbelt_ across her and clicked it in place—alright then. She fumbled around behind her seat until she found it, trying not to look as if she had no idea what she was doing. She hesitated. It hooked in somewhere, right? Cars didn't have these things where— _when —_ she came from. It seemed like a terrible nuisance to her, but she supposed Allison had a reason. Her hand found a small plastic square at her side and she shot another quick glance at Allison before clicking it in place.

She was rather proud of herself.

For a long moment they just rode along in the car, Laila staring out the window, and then turning and staring back at the dashboard. Had Allison said _change the channel_? Was this a _radio_? She reached forward carefully, and pressed the button again.

The music stopped.

She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them for a long moment. The ring sparkled on her finger. _Rob…._

She cleared her throat. "So, um. You've—uh—done some…research? On the Wood family I mean."

"Just a little," Allison said. "Lately I've been looking into it some more. Ever since Aunt Laila passed away, really. She was the last of her generation and I sort of felt like it was my job to carry on the family, you know?" She smiled a little. "I always liked Aunt Laila. She—she sort of fascinated me. She was an author, you know."

Laila looked up suddenly. "She was?"

"Oh, yes. I have all her books." Allison stared at the road ahead, a little dreamily. "I can't quite shake the feeling that there's always been a bit of a mystery about her. The way she looked at me….I've been reading her journal, lately. I found it and her letters in the little attic—the one that was always her room." Her face clouded over. "The one that Edward—never mind. I found it hidden in a little corner a while ago, and—what?"

Laila stared at her, her cheeks hot. "You—have been reading—my—her _journal._ " Allison had read her _journal._ All her odd little fancies that she'd scribbled down in the middle of the night. All her childish dreams. All her silly scribbles about Rob. Allison knew _everything._

Suddenly she felt as if her soul had been laid bare.

And her letters…..

"Her letters?" she blurted out. "You found her letters, too?"

Allison nodded. "Yeah—they were mostly letters to her fiancé. She kept them all bundled up in that little attic, and a locket with his picture. I thought it was….rather romantic, really." Her cheeks reddened and for a moment she looked almost like a dreamy little girl. "That she never remarried, always carried a picture of him around with her. And one of her books…." A smile touched her lips. "The dedication. _To my love, who died a hero's death._ "

 _A hero's death…._

"And he insisted on being buried under her favorite tree. Well, we're here." She pulled the car to a stop in front of the house, and turned the key. The engine puttered to a stop and she stepped out.

Laila followed dully. She was glad of the interruption. And yet—she wanted to know more, somehow. As if one little glimpse into the future had created a craving to know everything.

She didn't realize she had followed Allison all the way to the base of the ladder until she skidded to a stop and Laila nearly ran into her. She looked up, and closed her eyes for a moment. She didn't want to go back there. She didn't want to see—

But Allison had started up the ladder, and as if drawn against her will, Laila followed.

Once again, something flashed through her mind, as she watched Allison climb the ladder in front of her. Something—odd. Something _familiar._ Something that tickled at the back of her mind….

And then Allison skidded to a stop, and the feeling dissipated in an instant. All the color drained from her face and she let out a little cry—and then she was running forward, dropping to her knees beside the woman at the far end. She pushed a lock of thick brown hair out of her pale face, her eyes dull with shock. Laila rushed to her side.

"Allison…."

"It's Joylynn." Allison's voice was soft, and it sounded as if all the color had drained from it, too. "His wife…."


	18. Part 2 Chapter 5

_**Author's Note:**_ _Gah sorry guys today was crazy. I'm going to try to post next week but there's no guarantees because Christmas. Have a very merry Christmas everyone, and I hope I'll be around next week! :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

The afternoon sun shone bright and hot on the streets as Rey, the two Doctors, and Edward Wood made their way through the town. Rey found herself looking around, trying to take in every little detail—it was so _different._ So different from the Revolution, from Atlantis….

The houses were odd, and thoroughly different from anything she had seen before, though she supposed every planet had their style of habitation, and they _did_ resemble the houses in the Revolution. And they were the same houses that she had seen in that misty future—and that in itself was strange enough, and made her shiver, just a bit. Someday, this town would die. The sidewalk she walked on would crack and disintegrate and the houses she walked by—so bright and full of life, with light in their windows and people on their porches—would begin to collapse and fill with dust.

It was odd—she had never thought about what Jakku would have looked like, all those years ago. Before everything had become a ruin.

She let her steps slow as another strange vehicle, much like one she had seen earlier, zoomed past on the road beside her. Some kind of landspeeder, she supposed, though there was no antigravity—the wheels seemed to run directly on the ground. She had seen landspeeders without antigravity before—but they were horribly inefficient and prone to tipping and wobbling.

"Doctor," she hissed, still staring at the vehicle as it disappeared around the corner. "What is…."

Both Doctors turned towards her.

She sighed. "Alright, that's just annoying."

The other Doctor spoke. "Why do I get the feeling you're not talking to me?"

"Well…."

"Don't worry, you don't need to be polite. You won't offend me." This time it was _her_ Doctor who spoke. "Well, me-from-the-past. Mr. Leather Jacket here isn't easily offended."

"Bit more practical than a trench coat in the middle of summer, I'd say," the other Doctor retorted, his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

"Hey now—I like this jacket!"

"Not so easily offended, you said?"

"That was _you_ I was talking about."

Rey sighed. "Well? Names please. Something I can call you so you don't start an argument every time I try to talk to you."

As if in sync, they both shrugged.

"Doctor," said her Doctor.

"Yeah, just Doctor. Haven't got any other name."

She huffed. "Alright, if you're going to do that, I'm going to have to do it _myself._ You're Doctor," she nodded to her Doctor, "and you're Old Doctor. Sound good?"

Her Doctor smirked. "Old Doctor. 900 years, getting a bit up there, wouldn't you say?"

The other Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You're one to talk. What are you now, over 1000?"

"Actually no. Not yet." He motioned to his face. " _And_ I've got the advantage. Regeneration. It's good for the looks."

Rey crossed her arms and leveled them both with a glare. "I was _trying_ to ask you a question."

"Oh, right!" Her Doctor grinned at her. "Yes?"

"What was that….that vehicle thing that just passed us? I've seen them everywhere and I think they're some kind of landspeeder but…."

"Oh that? That's a car."

"A….car. Alright."

Edward turned back suddenly from where he stalked ahead of them. "She doesn't know what a car is?"

"I'm Rey and I can speak for myself." She crossed her arms. "And no, I don't—"

"Ahem—long story." Her Doctor cleared his throat. "And a story for another time. Right now—Falling Star Lane."

"Yes." Rey glared at him. "And tell us where, when, and how you found those _people_ you've got in your attic, too."

He turned away, and continued walking.

She was on him in an instant, her staff pointed at his face. " _Tell me,_ " she snapped. "Tell me, or—"

She felt a hand on her shoulder and whirled, fire in her eyes. "Careful now." Her Doctor looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "Don't want to get the police called on us. That's usually a bad idea."

"Police? Like what's on the TARDIS?" She shifted the staff in her hands. "We can deal with the police."

Edward took a step forward, his hand moving to his pocket. "That's assault, miss," he snapped. "And I _will_ call—"

"And bring them down on the bodies you've got hidden in your attic, all of which I suspect have been reported missing?" The other Doctor fixed him with a steady gaze. "I don't think so."

Rey lowered her staff a bit, but kept it at the ready. "Listen, all we need to know is where you found those bodies, and why you have them hidden in your attic. Just do what we say, and we won't—"

"I already told you! I found them on Falling Star Lane."

"And what were you doing on Falling Star Lane? From the sound of it, it's not the kind of place someone like you would just be _exploring._ " Her Doctor kept pace with Edward, his arms crossed. "You don't seem like the adventurous type. And believe me, I know the adventurous type when I see it. So—"

"My wife." He turned away, his voice hard. "It was her idea."

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere. So your _wife_ convinced you to do it." The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Not bad, not bad. I've heard that one before. And what about her?"

He didn't reply. And for a moment—just a fraction of a moment—his mask cracked, and Rey thought she could see behind it. She shot a quick glance at the other Doctor, and for a moment, their eyes met. And she knew he saw it too.

Something had happened to his wife. And it had something to do with Falling Star Lane.

She stepped forward, slipping her staff slowly into its holster, ready to put a gentle hand on the man's arm. But a sudden movement from the other Doctor brought her head around and sent her hand flying to her staff. He stood staring hard at his sonic screwdriver.

"I'm getting a reading. Something like time energy but different." He shook the device, and the pressed another button. "How close did you say we are to this Falling Star Lane?"

Edward stared at him. "Close," he said, and Rey could see his eyes on the device in the Doctor's hand. "Very close…."

Rey took a step forward, peering at the sonic screwdriver. Time energy—epicenter—this all seemed so familiar. There was something—

And then they were gone, flickering like ghosts and disappearing. And she stood alone on the sidewalk.


	19. Part 2 Chapter 6

_**Author's Note:**_ _Whoo, I actually got to post today! Merry Christmas! :D_

 _Also: "I am your father." :P_

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Laila stared at her. "His _wife?_ You mean he's keeping—" She turned away, her cheeks hot. And she was _related_ to this man? "What kind of—"

"How _could_ he." Allison stood, slowly, her face flushed and her eyes flaming. "How _could_ he—" She stumbled a little and caught herself against the wall, staring hard at the next bed. "Mrs. Cartwright—"

Laila started at the name, staring. The woman who lay in the next bed was in her seventies, her hair white as snow, her face creased with time. "Mrs.—Cartwright? This is—"

"She disappeared five years ago," Allison breathed. "We all thought—she was presumed dead—and—my _brother._ We have to—" She looked around, her fingers gripping the rough-hewn housebeam. "We have to call the police." Her voice was low. "We have to—I know all of them. All these people. I knew them—Ellie Layton." Her hand flew to her mouth and she half-ran half-stumbled to the bedside of a young woman, about the same age as her, with bright red hair that stood out strikingly against her pale face. "Ellie—she was engaged." Her voice caught. "She disappeared. Went to get something from a storage place down by Falling Star Lane. And—"

Laila's eyes flew open wide and she stared at Allison. "Did—did you say Falling Star Lane?"

Allison turned back, one hand still resting on the young woman's arm. "Yes? I—oh. _Oh._ Falling Star Lane—"

Laila nodded. "Rumors. Rumors about people missing hours, days. About stars that eat people. Crazy stories. But—" She looked around, her gaze returning to Allison. "Do you know where all these people—where they were last seen?"

Allison stared at her, her face pale in the dim light of the attic. "Mrs. Cartwright." Her voice was soft. "There was an investigation. Mr. Cartwright said—oh. _Oh._ " She sucked in a sharp breath. "He said they went for a drive down Falling Star Lane—and Mr. Edwards. He had just bought a house in that area, was going to fix it up and sell it—no. No. That's impossible. That's—"

"It's crazy." Laila stared at her, and her voice was almost a whisper. "All that stuff about Falling Star Lane, it was all just silly childhood superstitions, right? I thought so too, until—Allison." Her voice stopped Allison with one foot on the ladder. "I—I have to tell you something."

Allison looked up, and Laila paused, bunching her skirt in her hands. How did she say this? How did she tell the woman who stood before her—who was currently a few years _older_ than her—that she was her great-aunt? That she had stepped out of the past?

"You might want to get to the ground floor first." She attempted to infuse her words with a little humor, and failed somewhat. "I don't want you falling off and hitting your head."

Allison scrambled down the ladder, and Laila followed her. "Allison, I—" She stepped off of the last rung and just stood there for a moment, her heart hammering in her ears. There was no good way to say it. There was no way….her eyes scanned the room, looking for something to latch onto, something she could use—

Her gaze fell on a little box in the corner. Almost unconsciously, Allison's gaze followed hers.

"Oh!" Allison rushed over and picked up the little box. "Old family stuff. Pictures and letters and stuff like that. He had promised me—he wasn't interested—" A picture fluttered to the ground, and Laila leaned down to pick it up.

Her breath stopped in her throat.

The picture was old, yellowed and faded. But she remembered that picture. She remembered _taking_ that picture.

It had been taken just a few months ago. Just before Rob had enlisted.

Just after they had gotten engaged.

Rob stood with his arm around her shoulders, and they were both grinning—and looking slightly shy. She felt a little smile tugging at her lips. Yes—there it was. If she looked close enough, she could see the ring on her finger. She had tried very hard to make certain the ring had ended up in the picture.

Rob….

 _Died 1945….._

She closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers tightening around the picture. "Rob…."

She looked up to see Allison staring at her.

"No." She shook her head. "No—no. I'm going crazy. That's not—that's crazy. That's impossible. I'm dreaming. I'm—" She reached forward and snatched the picture from Laila's hands before she could stop her, staring hard at it.

"You're not." Laila took the picture back, quickly, and held it up next to her face. "It's me, Allison. This picture is me. I _am_ your great-aunt Laila."

Allison went pale and steadied herself against the doorframe. She shook her head dully, staring at Laila, then the picture, then at Laila again. For an instant, fear flickered through her eyes. "No….no." Her voice was almost a whisper. "Laila? Great aunt Laila…."

And in that moment, Laila knew what that odd, nagging feeling had been. What had been tugging at the back of her mind since she had first met Allison—

She was the ghost.

She was the ghost Laila had seen on Falling Star Lane. The one who had called for her, so frightened.

Her hand flew to her mouth and the picture fluttered to the ground. "Allison…." Her voice was strangled. "Allison…."

Allison shook her head. "You can't be. That's impossible. You can't…." Numbly, she reached down and picked up the picture, clutching it between her fingers. "It's you. It's you...that's why I recognized….the graveyard…."

Laila stood, still frozen. "We've got to find the Doctor," she said. "He can fix…"

"Fix?" Allison stared at her, sudden realization dawning across her face and turning to a wild grin. "No—no! There isn't a thing about this that needs to be fixed! You're my great aunt Laila and this is—" She laughed a slightly silly laugh. "This is _amazing._ I don't know how it's possible—I don't know—but—no wonder you always looked at me like that, when I was a kid. No wonder…."

Laila shook her head numbly, pushing past Allison and starting out the door, into the hallway. "No. No. That's not it. Allison." She grabbed Allison's hand and tugged her down the hallway. "Allison. We've got to find the Doctor. _Now._ "


	20. Part 2 Chapter 7

_**Author's Note:**_ _I hope everyone had a very merry Christmas filled with lots of_ _nerdy stuff. xD_

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

"Where's Rey?" The Doctor whirled, whipping out his sonic screwdriver. "Where is she? What happened?"

"I don't know!" The other Doctor stared at him, two sonic screwdrivers pointing at each other. "She's just—gone!" The two of them turned at once, staring at the man who stood a bit behind them. His face was dark, a mask pierced only by his eyes, which swirled with—something. With memory.

"You know something." The Doctor was on him in a moment, staring him down. "Tell me. Tell me now."

For a moment the man just stood there, staring darkly at the place where Rey had stood, his gaze like fire, hot enough to drill a hole in the little droid that sat there, looking confused and a little sad. Then something cracked.

"It's this place—Falling Star Lane. I think it's cursed." His voice wavered. "I found them all there. One by one. Unconscious. Dead. I thought. But they weren't. Just... gone." He clenched his fists at his sides. "Not here. Not the people I knew."

The Doctor's face softened, and he stepped back a bit. "Tell me," he said. "Tell me everything. Where you found them, how, when. What the place was like. What you saw. And we can restore them. I'm certain we can restore them."

Edward looked away, his fists still clenched—hard. "I found them all in different houses. Different places. Scattered around the whole cursed area. One in a storage unit, looking as if she'd collapsed. Keys still in her hand. One on the edge of the street. And when I found the last one, I…." Again his voice wavered, lanced with barely-suppressed emotion. "It was as if I was drawn forward. I don't know why. I kept walking. Down the street. Towards the end. And I reached a house, I—I knew I had found the end." He stared hard at BB8, not really seeing the little droid, his face hooded. "I can't explain it, Doctor. I had to go inside. I knew I was trespassing, but it was as if something pulled me through the door. I stepped inside, and—I saw something." He shuddered. "Something bright blue. But twisted. Horribly twisted." He looked up at the Doctor. "I have never been one to claim strange things, superstitions. But it was in agony. I don't know what it was. But it was crying out. Screaming. And I felt something reaching for me. It was hungry. I could _feel_ its hunger." His eyes narrowed, as if he was forcing the feeling from his voice and face. "It's crazy. But I ran. And I've never been back since."

"Time!" The voice burst out behind them and the Doctor and Edward both whirled to see the other Doctor staring triumphantly at his sonic screwdriver. "Time itself! Something's sucking time itself! And it's getting worse the closer we get. Whatever's going on here, this is the epicenter. This neighborhood."

"Ooh, nicely done, Leather Jacket!" The Doctor grinned and clapped his past self on the arm. "Ooh, I was good. So if something's sucking time itself from the area, that means Rey—wait." He turned suddenly to Edward. "Did you say _bright blue_?"

The man nodded. "The girl," he said, and his voice was taut. "She could have—"

"Bright blue!" The Doctor took off down the road, towards the sign that read _Falling Star Lane,_ letters scrawled in white paint. "Time energy! Bright blue! Doctor-past-me! Edward! I've got it! I've got—"

"Wait!" A girl's voice echoed down the street and the three of them stopped and turned as one. Laila approached, another woman at her side. "Doctor—wait!"

"How _dare_ you." The woman stepped forward, a sharp glare fixed on Edward. "Your own _wife._ I don't know what you were doing in that attic, but—"

"Wait." The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Wife?"

"His wife is up there in that attic!" Her voice was hot. "Like some kind of prisoner!"

"Ally—please." Edward grabbed her by the arm and she jerked away, refusing to meet his gaze. "Please—it's not what you think. She was the first one. The first one I lost." He turned to the others, the mask completely gone now, his shoulders slumped. "It was her idea. She wanted to do it. She wanted to explore. That's what I loved—what I loved about her." His voice wavered. "Her fire for life. Her adventurous spirit. And I was nothing but a dull businessman. But she…" His voice trailed off. "Well, she got a wild whim to explore one evening, and well….something happened." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't know what. But one moment she was laughing about how she felt like such an adventurer, and the next she was gone. Just—gone. Like the girl, Rey." He began to pace, clenching his fists again. "I searched. I searched the whole evening. And came back the next. And the next. And I found the people. The ones you saw up in the attic. I took them back. I thought they might be a clue. And then I found her. And she was—the same as them." His voice broke completely now, and a sheen of mist hovered in his eyes. "Gone."

Alison stared at him. "You mean—"

"Where's Rey?" Laila cut in, staring at the group. "Where'd she go?"

"Disappeared." The Doctor looked at Edward. "Just like—"

Laila stared at him, then at Allison. "We've got to find her," she blurted out. " _Now._ "


	21. Part 2 Chapter 8

_**Author's Note:**_ _Wheee I had way too much fun with this chapter xD_

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Rey blinked, swaying a little. She drew her staff slowly from its holster, looking around. The sidewalk beneath her feet was the same, and so were the houses that surrounded her. But everything was—different. A cloud skittered across the sun—the sky had been perfectly blue before. The street sign cast a long, distorted shadow into the street behind it, and the sides of the houses were dark with early-evening shadow.

She took a careful step forward.

"Hello?"

Her voice echoed down the street, and faded away.

She took another step, past the sign with the words _Falling Star Lane_ scrawled across it in jagged letters.

"Hello?"

The only answer was the lonely echo of her own voice.

She blinked, pressing her fingers to her temples. Her head still spun. The others—they had disappeared. Everything had changed, just a bit. It felt as if the entire world was off.

She opened her mouth to call out again, and then shut it. If no one had answered the first two times, no one was going to answer now.

Well—she was on her own until she found them. So she might as well do a little scouting.

She took in every detail of the neighborhood as she walked forward. The only sound was the pat of her footsteps on the concrete, which echoed a bit off the sides of the houses. Siding lay in strips in the shadows, peeled from the walls, and glass stood up in shards and triangles from the windows.

Had anyone ever lived here?

She drew her staff as silently as she could—the slight swish as it slipped from its holster seemed as loud as a searing blaster-shot—and glanced into every corner, her senses on high alert. Places like this, ruffians liked to hide in the shadows and attack unprepared wanderers. Her fingers tightened on the cool metal of her staff. Well, she wasn't unprepared.

A heavy silence hung over the neighborhood. Too heavy.

As if the silence itself was alive.

The moment she articulated the thought to herself, she snapped into instant alert. A presence. This was more than just the silence of an abandoned neighborhood. There was _something else here._ Like the creatures from the Revolution, beings that could press themselves in on her and force their way into her thoughts. But this one was—different. She didn't know how. But it was different, somehow.

She knew one thing, though. She didn't want it to detect her.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to focus on putting up some kind of barrier. She didn't know what she was doing and she didn't even know if she could do it, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to try. The Doctor had said something about telepathic abilities, and her resistance of the nanotransmitters was some sort of evidence of that, she supposed.

She didn't want to think about the implications of that. But she might as well use it.

Keeping her thoughts carefully shielded, she started forward again. She should go back. She should turn around and run. Everything in her screamed at her to run, to get away from this cursed place. But she didn't. She kept walking, focusing her senses on whatever being she had felt, each step bringing her closer.

Perhaps the Doctor's reckless curiosity was rubbing off on her.

She came to a stop in front of a house, the whole neighborhood seeming to warp around her, everything focusing in on this house like a spiraling tunnel. This was it. Whatever was here, it was in this house. She didn't know how she knew. But she _knew._

She took a step forward, setting one foot on the porch.

 _According to my readings, this is the epicenter._

The Doctor's voice echoed in her mind and she drew in a sharp breath. It was the same house. Looking at the half-broken door, the creaking porch, she knew it was. The epicenter…..

Her head spun with the thought of it.

Her fingers closed around the doorknob and the hinges squealed as she opened the door. The sense that assaulted her nearly knocked her backwards.

A _familiar_ presence. Something she knew. She didn't know what, but she'd felt this presence before. And it was in agony. Whatever it was, it was screaming, crying out—it was twisted.

She took another step forward. She should run. She should really run.

But she didn't. Something was calling out to her, desperately. Something that needed help.

Dust floated the air, displaced by her footsteps, and an early-evening sunbeam lanced through a dirt-streaked window. What had once been a couch had fallen into a state of nearly unrecognizable disrepair. Wallpaper peeled from the walls—

 _Wallpaper—_

 _Peeling wallpaper—_

She darted forward, drawing in a sudden sharp breath. She knew that wallpaper. She had seen—

She had seen her name written there.

She ran her fingers over the peeling wallpaper, leaving a swipe in the dirt. Nothing. No message. No name—

No. No. Surely not. That was impossible. Her head spun with the thought of it.

She looked around quickly. Who else was going to write the message, after all? She would never have ended up here if hadn't been for that message. Was there something, some board or random tool or—oh! The screwdriver! She still had that screwdriver in her pocket!

She pulled it from her pocket and smoothed the wallpaper up against the wall, her heart pounding in her ears. This was completely impossible. Completely crazy. Scratching the tip of the screwdriver down the wall, she etched three letters into the wallpaper.

 _Rey._

She took a deep breath. The scratching of the screwdriver was loud in the heavy, pressing silence. _He is the Doctor. March 2, 2018—_

Something brushed at the back of her mind and she shivered, slipping the screwdriver silently into her pocket and turning. It was that presence again. Not the familiar one. But the one she had felt earlier, the one she had tried to shield herself from—

She turned and ran.

* * *

"It's been an hour." Edward glanced at his wristwatch and his voice was dull, flat. But there was something hidden behind it, something that sounded like—memory. Laila looked at him. His wife—

This was exactly what had happened.

He had searched for hours. And she had been gone.

"I think I know what could have happened." The older man who called himself the Doctor spoke—the one with the leather jacket. It was all very strange and she wasn't certain she understood it. But his voice was serious, dark even, and something in it made her freeze and stare at him. "And I can only hope I'm wrong."


	22. Part 2 Chapter 9

_**Author's Note:**_ _Happy New Year!_

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

"We saw a ghost." The older Doctor paced back and forth in front of the collapsing doorway of a house, his gaze fixed on the group. "Caught between two time streams, she had her existence torn across history. No human can survive that. Something's sucking time energy from this neighborhood, and if—"

"No!" The other Doctor nearly shouted the word. "No, that's not possible. She couldn't have—maybe she got dropped in the future. Which means we'll catch up to her—"

The sound of running feet cut him off and both Doctors whirled to see Rey emerge from a nearby house, flying down the street. Recognition and relief dawned across her face and she started to smile, nearly stumbling forward into the Doctor's arms.

And then Edward was stumbling forward, shoving her to the street. She let out a cry of indignation at the rough push, and leaped to her feet, her staff at the ready—just as he collapsed.

The color drained from his face and he crumpled to the ground. She let out a little cry and started to drop to her knees beside him, but the Doctor pushed her away again, dropping to his knees in her place. The other Doctor joined him and together they lifted Edward and carried him to the porch of the nearest house, laying him on a half-collapsed bench. Rey watched, frozen in shock, as the two Doctors huddled around him, murmuring together.

And then her Doctor turned, and his face was grim.

"His mind's been eaten." He took a step towards the group, and the other Doctor followed. "There's a creature here. Nebulous life form, no body. It feeds on people's minds, gorging itself on their consciousness, their very being." His gaze glanced over Rey, and she shuddered.

It could have been her—

"Everyone out of the way." The other Doctor pushed his way through the group, his eye fixed on the house that Rey had emerged from. "If it wants mine, it's going to work for it!"

"Bright blue…." Her Doctor strode after him, muttering under his breath. "Bright blue…time energy….oooh that's it! That's _it!_ " He pushed past the other Doctor and flew up the steps to the porch, shoving the door open and bursting inside.

The other Doctor just looked at him for a moment. "Yep, still me." He nodded before following him inside.

For a moment Rey just stood there, trying to process everything that had just happened. She stared at the open door, where the two Doctors had disappeared. She stared at Edward, lying unconscious and pale on the porch. She stared at Laila—and—and—

The woman. The woman who was with Laila. She knew her.

She was the timestream ghost.

"Laila." She tried to keep the breathless fear out of her voice. "Who is—"

Their eyes met. And in that instant, Rey could see that Laila _knew._

"We've got to get you out of here." Laila hurried to the woman's side. "This neighborhood's dangerous. I don't know how this all works but you need to leave. Now."

The woman looked between Laila and Rey, and her eyes swirled with fear. "The way you're looking at me. Both of you. It's like you know something. It's the way you looked at me. Laila. The same way you looked at me—"

"Allison, please. We can change it." Laila hurried forward, practically dragging the woman after her. "Surely we can change the future. One right move, right? Isn't that how it works?" She looked at Rey. "You've traveled—you've traveled through time. Things can be changed—"

Rey shook her head. "I don't know. But if they can, the right move is getting out of here. Now."

* * *

Footsteps pounded through the living room and dust flew up in great clouds as the two Doctors dashed through the abandoned house, the floor creaking beneath them.

"I will speak to the creature that stole his mind!" The Doctor shouted, his voice echoing off the walls and through the rooms of the old house. " _We_ will speak—well—that'd be I—but you get the point! We want to speak to you!" A presence wafted around him, and he could feel its fingers brushing him, as if curious—and hungry. Very, very hungry.

"You have no right!" He turned in a circle, searching for a hint of the invisible creature, some shadow or wobble in the air that would betray its presence. The older Doctor came up behind him, his sonic screwdriver clutched in one hand, his gaze hard and dark. "You have no right to land here and make these people your food supply! To glut yourself on their minds like vultures on some dead animal!" He started forward, through the living room and down the hallway—

And skidded to a stop, the other Doctor—his past self—nearly running into him from behind.

There, in a little room that had once been a bedroom, the TARDIS split the wall in half.

But it wasn't the TARDIS. It was some twisted copy of it, half-eaten, gnawed away at, distorted—and screaming in pain. The Doctor saw horror wash over his past self's face, and he knew, as if they were a copy of the same person, that the same horror filled his own features.

"Release her!" His voice filled with the pain of the TARDIS, his own TARDIS, warped and twisted.

"You will let her go." His past self's voice was hard, hard but filled with fire. " _Now._ "

The creature wafted around them, its invisible being swirling like clouds of mist, sending fingers out to each Doctor. And it seemed it was laughing—laughing at having found such a delightful meal, something that would last it for a very, very long time. And then it drew back from the Doctors, centering all of itself on the TARDIS—and immediately, both Doctors felt it bite down on the consciousness that lay inside their beloved ship—hard.

And the TARDIS shivered and let out a silent scream.

* * *

A wobble seemed to move through the swiftly darkening neighborhood as Rey and Laila hurried Allison towards the sign, towards the edge of the dusky street. Rey stiffened and glanced around—that wobble looked familiar. It was the same thing she had felt in the future, when—

She heard Allison let out a little gasp beside her, and felt her stiffen. And then her hand passed through nothing. She whirled with a little cry, and her eyes met Laila's across the space where Allison should have stood.

* * *

"Doctor!" Rey and Laila flew through the empty living room, their footsteps pounding across the creaking floor. "Doctor, we need you—" She dashed down a little hallway, Laila nearly tripping over her—and skidded to a stop, her hand flying to her mouth.

The two Doctors stood staring at the TARDIS.

But it wasn't the TARDIS.

It was a nearly-empty shell. And it was crying out in agony.

She shook her head, steadying herself against the doorway. "No….no. No…."

"Falling Star Lane." Her Doctor turned, and his voice was dull. "Falling Star Lane—I knew it was the key. But not like this. Not my TARDIS. I never thought—"

"Falling Star Lane." The other Doctor spoke, his voice dark. "This is the falling star. The TARDIS. My TARDIS."

"It grabbed a hold of it. Thought it'd gotten a good snack." Her Doctor spoke again, his words tumbling over each other. "But it can't eat the TARDIS. The TARDIS resisted. It fell, catapulting us out. Dropping us in different times as it fought the creature." He began to pace, raking his fingers through his hair. "Landed in this neighborhood. Years ago. And stayed here. All these years. And it still couldn't eat it. Because the TARDIS isn't just any little consciousness. Oh no, there's all of time and space in there. So all it could do was bite it. Twist it. Chomp on it. And grab anyone else who stepped into the neighborhood while it was at it!"

"It's sucking time energy." The words came out before Rey could stop them. "It's sucking time energy—"

"Exactly!" Her Doctor whirled to face her, pointing a finger at her. "Ooh you're good! That's exactly it! The TARDIS—it's trying to sustain itself, to fight the creature." He began to pace again. "So it's sucking time energy into itself, drawing it from the surrounding area—Laila! Rey—an hour in the future. Laila—80 years."

Laila started, and stared at him, her eyes wide. She looked as if she didn't have an ounce of an idea what he was saying. She opened her mouth to speak—

And then the three of them whirled as the other Doctor dashed towards the TARDIS.

"I've lost everything." His voice was dark. "I've lost my people. I've lost Rose. I won't lose my TARDIS too." He slammed the door open and stepped inside, disappearing into the half-light that was the inside.


	23. Part 2 Chapter 10

_**Author's Note:**_ _I really really hope this chapter makes sense. I tried to make it clear what had happened but POV is a thing and….yeah. :P_

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

The Doctor dashed forward after his past self. "No! You can't do that—" He disappeared in the door of the TARDIS, and then Rey was after him before she could stop herself.

She wasn't going to lose him again.

She skidded to a stop in the doorway, closing her eyes for a moment and steadying herself. It was wrong. The inside of the TARDIS was completely _wrong._ So wrong it made her dizzy just looking at it. Oh, it _looked_ the same—but something about it was off.

And all around her, she could feel it crying out in pain.

Laila skidded to a stop in the door, just behind Rey. She squeezed her eyes shut and then turned away, pressing her fingers to her temples and shaking her head.

"What…." she managed, her voice sounding a bit faint. "What…."

And then the TARDIS twisted even more. Rey grabbed for her staff as if it was a lifeline, something solid as the floor seemed to spin like a cyclone beneath her feet. The two Doctors were both shouting at once, rushing for the console and then looking at each other, then running for the door. Rey felt something shoving at her, an inescapable, irresistible force pushing her backwards, and she grabbed for something, anything to hold onto. Her hand found what must have been Laila's and then they were tumbling backwards together, through blackness, the abandoned house flickering around them.

They landed with a crash, clouds of dust flying up around them. For a moment Rey just sat there, her head spinning, not quite daring to open her eyes. She sat slowly, rubbing her temples, and looked around.

The four of them lay as if they had been dropped in the little bedroom—and in the center was the TARDIS.

And it was the TARDIS. Fully, completely, the _TARDIS._

Her Doctor jumped to his feet, and then he was laughing. He nearly slammed into her, grabbing her and spinning her in a circle, laughing wildly.

"Paradox!" He cried, setting her down with a thump. "It's a paradox! Oh you wonderful, glorious past version of me, you!" He grabbed the other Doctor by the shoulders and shook him, a wild grin spreading across his face. "It ejected us! Couldn't handle the paradox so it ejected everything! Don't you see— _everything!_ "

"Including…." Rey's eyes went wide and she stared at the blue box. "Including the creature…."

"And the creature?" Laila's voice was small, and Rey turned to see her standing slowly, looking scared and overwhelmed and completely and utterly confused. "What about that—that thing that eats people's minds? What happened to it—"

"I think it's dead." The other Doctor scanned his sonic screwdriver around the room, turning in a slow circle. "It had gotten itself so wrapped up in the TARDIS that once it was ejected…."

"Doctor?" Laila stepped forward, seeming to pull into herself. "Doctor, Allison…." She looked around. "Allison…time energy….I don't know how this all works but…." Her voice trailed off and then she was running, flying out the door and down the steps. For a long moment Rey looked between her and the two Doctors, then followed her.

She was met at the door by Edward Wood.

Her hand flew to her mouth and she stumbled backwards. "Edward—"

He stared at her. "What happened?" His voice was a bit faint, and his face was pale as a ghost. "Did I black out? Where's—Rey! We found you…." He looked past her and she turned to see the two Doctors approaching.

"Oh, fantastic!" The other Doctor grinned and pushed past her, clapping Edward on the shoulder. "Thought that might have happened—"

"Brilliant!" A grin burst across the Doctor's face and he grabbed Edward and pulled him into an embrace. "You know what this means—this means it didn't just spit out the TARDIS! It spit out—oh. Oooh." He looked at the other Doctor, his eyes going wide. "The people. All the people. But not just the people. All that time energy that the TARDIS had sucked in….this could be bad. This could be very bad."

And before Rey could stop him, he was dashing back towards the TARDIS—the other Doctor following.

* * *

Laila turned in a slow circle, the dusky shadows closing in on her like fog. "Allison?" Her voice sounded somehow both small and very, very loud in the empty neighborhood, and sent little echoes bouncing off the houses and the alleys between them. She took a careful step forward, towards the sign. The sign where she had first seen Allison—

There had to be a way. There had to be a way to save her.

She took another determined step forward. "Allison? It's me. Laila. I'm going to…"

The Doctor had said something about streams of time energy. About getting caught in two steams of time energy, pulled in different directions—

Could—could one be pushed out of the time energy?

A plan flashed across her mind and she shivered. She didn't know what it was like, Allison's fate. What it was like being pulled across of all of history. But—

 _To my love, who died a hero's death._

 _A hero's death…._

There was only one thing she could do. And that was try.

"Laila?" Allison's voice seemed to flicker in and out, to be speaking with more than one voice at once, all layered on top of each other and echoing just a bit. "Laila—"

She reached a hand forward, opening her mouth as if to speak again. She flickered—

She was fading—

Laila whirled, and then she was running. Running forward, her steps pounding across the concrete. She didn't dare hesitate, didn't dare think about what she was doing. She slammed into Allison, shoving her backwards.

A drowning flood of time engulfed her.


	24. Part 2 Chapter 11

_**Author's Note:** Alright, we're coming to the end! One more chapter after this! Thanks for following me this far and I hope you enjoyed it. :D _

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Rey and Edward skidded to a stop as Allison tumbled backward with a little shriek, landing on the concrete road with a smack that sounded as if it should have hurt her. Rey dashed forward, her arms around her, helping her slowly to her feet. It was her—she was solid, and real. Not the timestream ghost. Not the frightened almost-person. _Allison._

Edward as at her side in an instant, his hands on her shoulders. "Ally—"

She looked around, her eyes wide like a frightened deer, her gaze flickering here and there and not focusing on anything. "Laila….Laila?" Finally her eye seemed to focus. Her voice was dazed, a bit faint. Rey put a supporting arm around her and turned, following her gaze.

She drew in a sharp breath. "Laila!"

The girl stood before them in the dusky half-light—and she was flickering.

Allison took a stumbling step forward, reaching out a hand. "Laila—"

"No—no." Rey pulled her gently back. "You'll get caught—"

"She can't die." Allison's voice was confused, a bit distant, as if she wasn't fully aware of what she was saying. "I knew her. When she was older. I knew her—" She pressed her hands to her head and groaned a little, her eyes shifting back into their unfocused, blind stare. "I saw the future. And the past. All of it. At once. It's fading—"

"That's _good._ " Rey put her hands on the woman's shoulders and tried to catch her gaze. "You aren't supposed to see that. No one's supposed to see that—"

A familiar warping sound surrounded them and Rey started and looked up, expecting to see the TARDIS materializing in front of them, bright blue in the dusk. But she saw the ceiling of the console room above her instead, growing clearer and clearer until she was standing— _inside._ The two Doctors stood at either side of the console, and they both turned as if in sync to grin at the newcomers.

All _four_ of them.

Rey sucked in a sharp breath. Laila stood in the center of the room, blinking. _Laila._ The real, solid Laila.

"Well?" The older Doctor leaned against the console, his arms crossed. "Isn't anyone going to complement my materializing skills?"

And then she was running forward, and Allison was running forward, and they were laughing, hugging, laughing some more, asking what had happened in a jumble and tangle of words.

"I—I saw everything." Laila looked around, her eyes wide and unfocussed. "All of time—and then—something tugged at me. And I was here—"

"That'd be me." Her Doctor grinned. "Now—I know _exactly_ where to go."

A moment later, the TARDIS settled into place with a thump, and the two Doctors were at the door in an instant, pushing it open and stepped out in front of Laila's house.

Rey followed the Doctors, Laila, Allison, and Edward at her heels. Laila skidded to a stop outside the door, staring.

"Wait…." She ran forward, pressing her hand against the side of the TARDIS. "Wait….that's…."

"Bigger on the inside?" Both Doctors spoke at once. Her Doctor nodded.

"Yep, that's what they usually say. Now." He nodded towards the door of the house. "I believe there's some people in there—"

"Joylynn. My wife." Edward's voice sounded a bit strangled, and then he was running forward, throwing open the door, Allison at his heels. Rey and Laila looked at each other, then followed slowly.

The house was dusky in the early evening, draped with shadows. As they stepped through the living room, Rey could almost catch a glimpse of what it would be in the future—the dusty, abandoned ruin filled with echoes of memories. She pulled the screwdriver from her pocket, turning it over in her fingers absently as she stepped into the hallway. It fell to the floor with a clatter, rolling—

And coming to a stop just inside the little room at her side.

She froze, staring at it.

 _She had kicked it halfway across the floor, dust flying up in a cloud around it—leaned down and picked it up—_

She took a step backwards, stumbling a bit, her head spinning at the idea of it. She would find it here. In the future. Laying in the dust—

She turned away quickly. She couldn't think about it. It nearly made her dizzy. Dully, she followed Laila down the hallway, coming to a stop in the doorway.

Edward stood at the foot of the ladder, his arms around the woman she had seen in the attic, her head buried in his shoulder and her thick brown hair spilling onto his arm.

She looked at Laila, and they both smiled a little.

* * *

"Now." The Doctor leaned against the edge of the TARDIS, his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. "That thing spit out a TARDIS-full of time energy and it's going to spread quickly. Allison and Edward—I'm putting you in charge of evacuating the town. Get the people out as quickly as possible, because you're going to be faced with a town of messed up timelines in a matter of a few days."

Allison nodded quickly. "Alright." She smiled a little. "It's not as if I'm going to save the world, but saving the town's enough, right?" She glanced at her brother, who stood in the doorway, surrounded by the people from the attic, his wife still leaning on his shoulder. Allison grinned. "I'll let him know as soon as he can tear himself away from her. Laila…." She turned to the girl who stood beside her and smiled mischievously. "I think we should tell him, shouldn't we?"

Laila grinned at her. "Yeah. Now where was that picture of me….?"

The Doctor turned to his past self as the two women walked towards the little group of people in the doorway. "So." He raised an eyebrow. "Where are we then? Have you met Rose—wait. You said you'd lost her—oh. Oooh. She said no, didn't she?"

"Rose?" Rey looked at the two Doctors, and smiled a little. "So _that_ was her name."

The other Doctor nodded, and his voice was laced with a dark sort of sadness. "So I left."

The Doctor held up a finger. "Okay, rule number one. Don't do that. Rule number two—actually there isn't any rule number two. But." He took a step closer to the other Doctor. "If you remember anything about this whole experience, remember this. Go back and ask her. Go back to that exact same spot, and ask her again. And I think you'll like the answer." He turned to Rey. "Now. I think I owe you another trip, wouldn't you say?"


	25. Part 2 Chapter 12

_**Author's Note:**_ _Last chapter! I hope you enjoyed it!_

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

The Doctor had asked her to travel with him.

Laila trudged through the town as the shadows fell about her, the first stars beginning to peek out in the night sky. The Doctor had asked her to travel with him. A few trips to the future, maybe? A peek into the past? _You're a seasoned time traveler now,_ he had said with a grin.

But she couldn't.

The image of her gravestone hovered in the back of her mind, of her and _Rob's_ gravestone. _Died. 1945._ The knowledge that would haunt her for the next two years. And then, for the rest of her life. _Died. 2013._

She had had enough of seeing the future.

There was Miller's department store. The store that would be a post office in 80 years. And the Cartwright's house—where Eddy would live. She slowed as a car passed her on the road—how different they would look in 2018. She thought of the strange devices on the dashboard, of the little robot that followed Rey like a loyal puppy. Of the calendar hanging on the wall in her attic. Of the walls painted a different color, the furniture, the light switch, the—

She couldn't think about it. She felt as if she could go crazy under the weight of _knowing._

Yes, she had had enough of seeing the future.

Her house loomed up before her, a silhouette in the darkness, and she hesitated for a moment. How long had she been gone? Mother was going to kill her….

She took a deep breath, stepped up to the door, and knocked.

She could hear the sound of running feet inside, and the door was flung open. And in the doorway stood—

Rob?

For a moment she just stared at him, and then her hand flew to her mouth. "Rob?" she said in a small voice. "Rob—"

And then he had thrown his arms around her, and was twirling her in a circle, laughing, almost crying. "Laila! Laila….oh, Laila." His voice was a bit strangled, and he gazed at her as if he couldn't get enough of her. "Laila….I thought you were dead."

Her eyes widened and she stared at him. "How….how long…."

"Two weeks!" He put his hands on her shoulders, still staring at her as if he couldn't quite believe it. "It's been two weeks…."

Her hand flew to her mouth. "Two….weeks….I've been gone for…..oh my…." She let out a little squeak. "Two weeks….oh goodness. Doctor, you…." She shook her head before grinning, and throwing her arms around Rob again, burying her head in his shoulder.

* * *

It must have been three o'clock in the morning.

Allison sat curled up in a little window seat, staring up at the stars, the cracked journal on her lap and a pile of yellowed letters at her side. Somehow, she felt odd opening the journal—felt odd, reading those letters—now, after she had—

After she had _met_ her.

It had been a month now. The town had been chaos and her and her brother had had to explain a lot of things that no one had believed, but finally they had gotten everyone out, and Edward had even managed to get the town investigated and most of it condemned and gated off.

And now here she was, finally settled into her new home with Laila's journal in her lap, wondering if she dared.

A flashlight lay balanced on the windowsill, casting long, distorted shadows as she opened the journal, her fingers ghosting over the yellowed pages. Where had she stopped, last time she had read? April 23, 1943. Rob had just left—

She flipped to the next page and froze.

 _May 24, 1943._

 _My dear Allison. I know you're reading this, and I just want to say that I don't mind. I'm dead by now; at least I'm fairly certain I am, if you're reading this when I think you are. Oh, that's a rather strange thought—but I simply must tell you what happened, for I'm certain you'll want to know._

 _When I arrived home, I discovered I had arrived two weeks late and everyone thought I'd been killed somehow. It was—rather horrible, but rather dramatic, I suppose. At any rate, Rob was certainly glad to see me! Oh—Rob! He had come home with a bandage over his heart—he told me the bullet had just missed him. And—well—we were going to wait until the war ended to get married, but—_

And here the writing became a bit shaky, and a dark splotch of ink spread across the paper, as if she had laid her pen down.

 _But—well. I wanted to, and he wanted to, and well, we both thought—if we lost each other again—_ and the handwriting became shaky again, shaky and a bit weak. _Well, we'd rather have a little time. So we're to be married tomorrow, and oh dear, I'm so excited I'm quite certain I won't get a wink of sleep. So I decided I must write to you._

 _My dearest Allison. I'm afraid I don't have the words to say. I'm sorry we had such little time together. I would have liked—we are so much alike, you and I. I believe we would have been wonderful friends if we had been born in the same time. And I will be forever glad I was able to know you, even just a little._

And here the entry stopped, and a new date was written underneath it. Allison let the book fall from her fingers and gazed out the window for a long moment, staring unseeing at the twinkling stars. She wished she could reply. She wished—

She didn't know what she wished.

But as she stared at the night sky, she thought she saw a familiar shape pass across the moon. The shape of a rather square, and probably blue, police box.

* * *

 _The End_

* * *

 _So I have the next story written and should hopefully be posting it in the next week or so if I can get my proofreader (i.e. my mom) to review it for me. ;)_


End file.
